


There Will Come A Time

by sdwolfpup



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Canon Disabled Character, Character Death, Established Relationship, F/M, I thought you were dead, Minor Cassandra Pentaghast/Varric Tethras, Minor Fenris/Female Hawke, Minor Iron Bull/Dorian Pavus, Minor Sera/Dagna, POV Multiple, Physical Disability, Post-Trespasser, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-11
Updated: 2017-06-21
Packaged: 2018-11-12 18:33:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 16
Words: 70,263
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11167638
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sdwolfpup/pseuds/sdwolfpup
Summary: “I know what you would do for her, and she for you. It's admirable but can be dangerous. The love that binds you two together may save us.” Leliana touched his arm, gentle and quick. “Or doom us, if you forget what we're trying to do. This is going to come down to Lady Adaar, in the end. I believe you will go with her as far as you can, but there is only so far you can go.”“I will go as far as she needs, and then further,” he said, his voice low.----------Two years post-Trespasser, Thom Rainier brings home an unexpected omen that takes him and Kaitala Adaar on a dangerous journey.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> All my gratitude and thanks to romanticalgirl for astute beta! This isn't even her fandom! Any remaining errors or misjudgments are mine. Title from Mumford & Sons' "After the Storm."
> 
>  
> 
> _But there will come a time, you'll see, with no more tears._  
>  _And love will not break your heart, but dismiss your fears._  
>   
> 

When they found her, her hand was already gone.

Thom Rainier had tried to run through the Eluvian after Kaitala and Solas, but instead of bursting through he'd slammed headfirst into it and then back onto the ground with a grunt. His nose throbbed.

“That can't be good,” Varric murmured, having just barely jumped out of the way of Thom's rebound. They all stared helplessly at the Eluvian for a long minute.

Thom turned to Dorian. “Can you-”

“No,” the mage said, his tone sharp. And then again, softer: “No.”

Thom considered attacking it with his sword, but even if he _could_ harm it, he wouldn't want to trap Kaitala inside, wherever she was. He rubbed his nose and stood. “Shit!”

“My thoughts exactly,” Varric said, but even the dwarf's normally implacable tone was dull and resigned. They were chasing after an Elven god; whatever happened now was beyond their control. Thom thought he'd gotten used to facing larger-than-life supernatural forces fighting Corypheus, but at least that battle had ended with swords and blood, and by Kaitala's thrice-damned hand. The hand Solas had given her. Was he killing her even now? Thom knew she'd be brave, that she would fight her hardest, but she was alone. He had faced death alone too many times, he couldn't bear that for her.

The Eluvian sat dark and still, its magic a heavy, coiled thing they couldn't touch. “Could one of those other mirrors get to the same place?” he asked.

“There's no way to tell without trying them,” Dorian said. “But even if one did, it would take hours, at best, to discover it. There is nothing we can do but wait, and hope.”

Hope. It was usually all they had, but it felt unthinkable here, in these strange lands, without Kaitala around to inspire it in them.

A soft wind brushed past them, warm and gentle on their skin. It might have been peaceful if not for the utter lack of any other noise in the Ruins – no birds, no bubbling creeks, just the soft rustle of the wind in the grass and their own heavy breathing, loud as trespassers in the thick absence of sound.

The Eluvian crackled to life, sudden lightning on a clear day, and all three men startled backward. Thom recovered and shouted “Go!” even as he was running towards it, and he was grateful to see the other two had moved into step behind him before he'd even spoken. He lowered his head and winced as he reached the Eluvian's swirling face, but instead of hitting it again, he went through, felt the now-familiar dissipation of his body before being shoved back together and through a too-small hole. He stumbled out into a field that looked similar to the one they'd left, except for the strange statues in front of them. He heard Varric and Dorian emerge after him.

The figures were Qunari, their faces captured in clenched pain.

“These aren't statues,” Dorian whispered flatly.

“Kaitala!” Thom shouted. “Kaitala!” He looked around frantically and saw a tall, horned figure in the distance that, as they ran towards it, resolved into another non-statue of the Viddasala who had also been chasing Solas. Thom's heart swam into his throat but he kept moving forward, shouting the Inquisitor's name.

They found her curled on the ground, one arm wrapped around her body. Thom rushed up and knelt at her side, his hands hovering over her as he tried to ascertain if she was alive. Her breathing was ragged but there, and he bit back a cry of relief. He gently moved her arm, trying to see her wounds, gauge if they could move her or would have to figure out something else. “Maker,” he breathed, when he saw her other arm. Everything below the elbow was gone. He looked around, but there was no blood, and where her arm ended was as smooth as though it had always been that way. _Solas_. Thom didn't know whether to thank him or curse him for it. Kaitala stirred and Thom forgot him for now.

“I'm here, my love,” Thom said, gently lifting her so she was sitting, leaning back against him. Her eyes were still closed, but the crease in her forehead smoothed when she heard his voice. Dorian and Varric hovered around, and he could tell by their reactions the second they noticed her arm.

“Is she okay?” Varric asked.

“I don't know. We need to get her back to the palace.”

“Can you- can you lift her?” Dorian asked, sounding unusually unsure of himself.

It was a fair question; Inquisitor Adaar was a foot taller than himself, and well-muscled. At least she didn't have much extra weight from the horns, like The Iron Bull. “I have before,” he murmured. “Let's see if I still can.”

In the end, after they'd removed some of her armor - all while she remained unconscious - it turned out he could carry her. And he did: past the Qunari corpses, back across the Elven plains, through the Eluvians, and the Darvaarad, and the Crossroads, and finally into the Winter Palace all with her limp body heavy in his arms. As they headed through the Palace, his glare was enough to cut their way through the growing crowd. Around him, he recognized voices: Leliana, Cullen, Josephine, and Varric and Dorian trying to answer them all, explain something none of them understood.

Thom made his way to their room and lay her down on the ostentatious bed. The night they'd spent in it curled around each other seemed as far away as the moon now. He held her hand between his and finally looked around. The others had managed to keep the crowd away and were all watching him expectantly. He wondered if this was how Kaitala always felt. “Where are the healers?” he asked, his voice loud in the stillness.

“Coming,” Leliana said. There was a knock on the door. “Here,” she amended, letting them in.

Three healers bustled to the bedside, two opposite Thom, one next to him. The one next to him hesitated, and looked behind them.

Dorian moved up, gripped Thom's shoulder warmly, but firm. “Let them do their work,” he said. “You've done all you can for now.”

Thom relented under Dorian's insistent pull. He stepped back a few feet, and the third healer moved into his spot. The three started murmuring to each other, gesturing, removing Kaitala's remaining armor and clothes with expert hands. Thom turned when Leliana stepped next to him.

“Solas?”

“Gone,” he said. “No sign of him.”

“I'll get the full report from Varric and Dorian, of course, but is there anything you can think of that might be important now? It may help her.”

He shook his head, frustrated at the wave of helplessness. “Not a damned thing. We don't even know how it happened. She ran through and we got trapped on the other side. Do you think- Is she-”

“She's strong,” Leliana said. “The Inquisitor is the only person I know that I would bet on to survive. And Solas...they were friends. Perhaps this was a blessing.” Leliana faded back, and he heard her talking softly with the others. Thom ignored them all and watched Kaitala's face, willing her to open her eyes.

One of the healers gestured to Leliana, and they stepped off to the side, heads together. Thom strained to hear what they were saying, not comforted by the way they glanced periodically at him. Finally Leliana nodded, thanked the healers, and ushered them out. As soon as they'd gone, Thom moved back to Kaitala's side, holding her hand with both his. “I'm right here,” he told her. “Until you wake.”

“The healers say they can find no obvious wound,” Leliana said. “They think she may be in shock, or it may be from whatever magic Solas used to remove the anchor. Their recommendation now is time.”

“ _These_ are the best healers in Orlais?” Dorian scoffed. “Take a nap and hope for the best?”

“If she doesn't awaken by tomorrow evening, then they will try other methods. But they don't want to cause any accidental harm. Josie, can you inform the Council of our delay?”

“Of course. I'm sure the Divine would like to stop in and see Lady Adaar.”

“No,” Thom said firmly. “No visitors until she's awake. Or until tomorrow evening.”

The small group stood quietly for a handful of heartbeats before Varric broke in. “Well, I could stand to get drunk. Dorian?”

“Maker, yes. Rainier? Want to leave one of these lot to watch her while we get a drink?”

“No, go ahead. Get some of the really expensive stuff and put it on the Divine's tab.”

“Delightful idea. But make sure you get some food and rest as well, hm? Can't have you collapsing from weakness once the Inquisitor is up. She'll just take it out on the rest of us for not watching out for you.”

Thom shot the mage a small smile, and nodded in thanks.

They each took a turn coming to the bedside, touching her arm, or shoulder, and wishing her well. Each one made Thom's hold on his own fears weaken, and he desperately wished they would just go, before he made a fool of himself. Then, blessedly, they did, and he was alone with Kaitala and the terror he'd been holding at bay.

Thom fell to his knees at her bedside, her hand still clutched in his. Her long fingers were limp.

“Andraste,” he whispered, “I have tried not to ask you for much, but I'm not asking for myself. If any woman has ever deserved your blessing, it's this one. She's done more than can be expected of any one person. Surely she's earned the rest of her life to enjoy. Let her wake, so she can live it.” Thom pressed his forehead to Kaitala's hand, and knelt at her side until he drifted to sleep, slumped against the side of the bed.

 

* * *

 

Some time later, he startled awake in the dark room. “Kaitala?” he whispered, and waited, but no answering word came.

Groaning at the knots in his back, Thom slowly stood and went to get the fire started. As the first tender flames tasted the air, he bent over, grimacing from the ache, and tugged his boots off. He stretched his arms out and around, twisted side to side as far as he could, and cursed getting older. He'd have to talk to the healers back at Skyhold, see if there were something they could give him to help keep his body sharp. Helping Kaitala was too important to let pride get in the way. He moved back to her side and in the warm light he examined her more closely – the old scars on her body, the startling smoothness of the new one. It couldn't even said to be scarred at all. Thom had seen more than his share of amputated limbs – had caused a number himself – and they had never looked like that, even when magic caused them. He brushed her lips with water, and then dragged a chair nearer to the bed so he could keep an eye on her while he started the tedious but necessary task of cleaning their armor. He steadily made his way through hers first, finding no unusual markings on it, then his, then both of their swords. Thom was halfway through cleaning off her shield when she shifted in the bed.

He was at her side in a flash. “Kaitala?”

Her mouth opened, closed, opened again. “Thom?”

“Thank the Maker,” he breathed, kissing her forehead. “You scared me to death, my love.”

Finally – finally – her eyes opened. He saw her unfocused gaze wander aimlessly around the room in the gold firelight, before finally focusing on his face. “Thom,” she said, and the relief in her voice matched his own. “What happened?”

“I was going to ask you the same thing,” he said, sitting next to her on the bed. He kissed her forehead again, breathed in the dust and dried sweat, and sent a silent thanks to Andraste. He told Kaitala what he knew about what had happened and how she'd gotten here, casually avoiding her arm for the moment. “How do you feel?” he asked.

“Weird,” she admitted. “My hand, the anchor,” she lifted her arm, and the rounded edge just above where her left elbow had been looked stark in the firelight. “Oh,” she said, and she started to cry.

Thom shifted so he could put his arm around her and pull her weight onto him, hugging her tightly against his chest. He'd had soldiers in his command who had lost limbs, and they'd all responded in different ways. Tears were not unusual; feeling them echo in his own heart was. He pressed his lips to her hair and let her cry.

After a time, she wiped her eyes with her hand, and then turned her head to kiss him. “Thank you,” she murmured. “For everything.”

He wanted to protest, to remind her he'd done nothing at all and it had been eating at him since she'd disappeared behind the Eluvian, but her eyes were still bright with tears and worry so he nodded instead. “Do you want to talk about what happened with Solas?”

“No. But we should. I'd rather tell everybody at once, so I don't have to repeat it.”

“Wise. I can go get them.”

“No! No. I'm not ready. I'm not...I'm not ready,” she repeated, her voice cracking.

“Of course.” Thom helped her into a more comfortable upright position, tucked some of the too many pillows behind her back, gave her water to sip. “Are you hungry?”

She shook her head. “I just want you to stay with me.”

He nodded and settled back against the headboard. The fire trimmed the shining edges of her horns, made her treasured body glow. He couldn't get the image of her curled on the ground out of his head and his heart stuttered remembering that awful moment before he knew she was alive.

Kaitala lifted her amputated arm in front of her and he watched her examine it with delicate touches. After a few moments he asked quietly, “Does it hurt?”

“Not here,” she brushed her fingertips along the dark skin. “But here,” and she moved her hand to the empty space where the rest of her arm used to be, “it's like the hand is there and aching and I can't do anything about it. It's not too painful, it's mostly frustrating.” She bit her lip, her teeth forming deep valleys. “What am I going to do?” she whispered. “I don't have the anchor. I can't fight. How can I lead anyone after this?”

“The same way you did before this.” He continued past the denial perched on her tongue. “You closed all the remaining rifts last year. You have an entire army that's done the clean-up fighting since Corypheus was defeated. You mostly spend your time at boring diplomatic engagements these days, or have you forgotten that three-day nightmare you wrote me about a few months ago?” Her lips curved into a quick smile and he felt his heartbeat smooth. Whatever the failings of his aging body, whatever fears he'd be battling in his sleep for Maker knew how many nights, this he could do. “I know you haven't decided what you're going to do yet, about the Inquisition. But they didn't pick you to be Inquisitor because of the anchor. We don't follow you because of your skill with a sword. It's because you never give up, when the cause is just. It's because you gave a lonely elf girl the family she never knew she wanted. It's because you knew everything I was but believed in everything I could be, and made me believe in it, too. That and more is what you will do, my love, when you are ready. And I will be by your side when you do.”

Kaitala's eyes welled with tears and she leaned over and pressed her lips gently to his. “Help me get dressed?” she asked. “I'm ready, now, as long as you're here.”

“Always,” he murmured.

 

* * *

 


	2. Chapter 2

 

**TWO YEARS LATER**

Kaitala Adaar woke alone, as she had for over a month now. She stretched out the tightness of her muscles and rolled out of bed, her feet sinking into the thick rug on the floor. There wasn't even a hint of chill in the air, so she left the fire unstoked, knowing it would be a hot summer day like the one before, and the one before that. Each day was often like the last on their little farm, but she welcomed the calm routine of it.

She splashed cool water on her face, relieved herself in the bedpan, and then pulled on and fastened her short-pants and a loose cotton shirt, the same as she had done every day since Thom had left. Kaitala had never been much for breakfast, so she grabbed a hunk of bread and dipped it in the cold stew leftover from last night's dinner. Then, once she had forced herself to see to the basics, she allowed herself to go outside and look for signs of Thom's arrival.

The air was already warm and thick and still. Birds chirped brightly at the sun that hung low on the horizon. Kaitala moved to the stables and found only Anaan there, as she expected. “Good morning,” she greeted him, getting his oats ready while he whickered and snuffled the back of her shirt. He was a big, mottled brown and white stallion with a soft nose and sharp eyes. He'd been a challenge to train but he was more loyal than most dogs and twice as smart. He lifted his head and laid it on her shoulder while she finished scooping his breakfast. Kaitala rested her cheek against his for a moment before finishing the task. She left Anaan to eat and passed the rest of the morning with the routine tasks of caring for the farm and the animals on it: feeding the chickens and goats, checking the status of the crops and watering where necessary, making note of a row that needed harvesting already and another that looked like it was under attack by rabbits. And always she kept checking the road leading from the woods, waiting for some sign of Thom.

After she'd come back out and pulled a row of snap peas that were ready, taking time to carefully tug the pods without breaking the stems, she decided to take her nervous energy out on the practice dummies they had installed in the side yard.

She grabbed her training sword, dulled with years of practice, the weight familiar in her hand. Kaitala rolled her shoulders, acutely aware of the imbalance in weight. She'd grown used to the way it felt to have just one hand in every way except when she took up her sword. Two years of off and on one-handed practice hadn't replaced the twenty years of sword and shield fighting she'd done before Solas had removed the anchor and half her arm with it. She still expected the heavy weight of a shield on her left side, weighing down that arm. Without it she felt lopsided, and vulnerable.

Thom had built both dummies out of thick tree trunks they'd cut from the edge of their land, and they stuffed the arms and legs full of corn husks from each of the previous year's crops. The dummies showed signs of wear even though she and Thom both practiced irregularly these days. There was no need to be constantly on guard in their quiet lives.

Kaitala looped the sword in an easy circle, her fingers settling into worn grooves on the hilt. The worry eased, replaced with battle-honed instinct to focus on the steel in her hand, the way the ground felt through her thin-soled boots, and how the chickens broke the quiet with their soft murmuring. She slapped the flat of her blade against the round middle of the dummy, the strike reverberating gently to her wrist. Then she spun and twisted the blade right before it struck hard, the dull edge rebounding with a thud. That one she felt up to her shoulder.

After that she struck relentlessly: forehand, backhand, sending corn husks and the occasional wood chip flying. She kept in motion spinning, lunging, dancing around the dummy, controlling her breathing in time with each blow. She heard the chickens cackling, Anaan's curious whinny, felt her back and hand grow sweaty. The sun glinted off the metal of the training blade and beat hot on her body. She kept her left arm tight against her side and every time it felt awkward she struck the next blow twice as hard.

Then, faintly, as her arm grew weaker and her breathing harder, she heard the faint sound of hoofbeats.

The sound grew steadily, thundering through the hot, dry air. She took another swing at the practice dummy and then lowered her sword and wiped the sweat off her brow with her other arm. It wasn't time for her weekly visit with the neighbors. The figure coalesced out of the edge of the trees, riding directly for her home, the pounding of her heart in time with the horse's steady gallop. Even before he was close enough to see details, Kaitala was smiling.

Thom slowed and stopped his horse at the gate, staring down at her. The horse snorted loudly between them, sides heaving from the run. She tried to steady her own breathing, but her eager heart raced. “Are you alone here, my lady?” Her body thrilled to hear his warm, deep voice again.

“Aye,” she said, unable to stop smiling at him.

“Where is your husband, to have left someone as lovely as you on her own?”

“My husband knows I can take care of myself,” she said. “And have, several times, since he's been gone,” she added saucily.

Thom's brows lifted. “Perhaps you could use a strong man to help you take care of things.”

“Perhaps. Let me know if you find one.”

“Wench,” he growled, sliding quickly off the horse and advancing on her. He grabbed her and kissed her hard. “I missed you,” he breathed.

“And I, you.” She ran her fingers through his hair. “Your hair's gone long again.”

“That's not all of me that's long,” he said, and grinned at her delighted laugh. “Let me show you.” He kicked the door open with his foot and tugged her through the doorway, pulling her willingly toward the bed.

He kissed her, his mouth rough and hungry, as he guided her to sit on the bed. He yanked off his traveling buff coat and the simple linen tunic underneath, the arms twisting briefly in his hurry, while Kaitala pulled her own shift and undershirt off. Curly dark hair just starting to go light with gray covered Thom's chest, and she rubbed her hand over it, brushing the tips of her fingers across his nipples and then following the line of his hair down towards his trousers. Thom inhaled sharply and grabbed her hand. “Let me,” he said.

He pulled his trousers off quickly – she saw his cock was hard as promised - and then pressed her back further so she was lying down. Thom knelt at the edge of the bed, his breath hot against her waist as he tugged at the fastenings of her breeches and then peeled them and her smallclothes off of her, his gaze traveling reverently up her body as he climbed on the bed. “I dreamed about you every night,” he said, his voice thick. Kaitala wrapped her arm around his neck and tugged him down towards her, impatient to feel his weight.

He smelled of horse and sun and sweat, so familiar it made her heart twist from missing him. He nuzzled her neck, his beard tickling her skin. His cock pressed hot against her belly and she arched up against it, aching to feel him inside her. She'd dreamed of him, too, over the weeks apart. Simple dreams of sitting by the fire together, or in bed together, or, as his expected arrival came and went, darker dreams where he returned only as a ghost. She ran her hand down his back, along the taut muscles. He felt blessedly real, and she wished for her other hand just so she could take him in faster. “What did you dream?” she asked, gasping under the ministrations of his lips.

“I dreamed of you naked,” he said, pressing urgent kisses along her collarbone. As he moved, his cock slipped lower and she surged against him, felt the tip settle at her entrance. “Of your breasts,” and he sucked a nipple into his mouth, his tongue pulling and teasing. His strong hands kneaded her and she lifted towards him eagerly. He licked and sucked her other nipple until she thought she may come just from the feel of his mouth. Instead he lifted his head and said, “of you wet for me,” and pressed the heel of his hand against her sex.

Kaitala moaned, and then cried out when he slid one thick finger inside her. She loved his hands, their alternating force and tenderness. He thrust his finger in and out of her a few times and then pulled it away to her gasping breaths, leaving her empty and yearning for him. He stroked his wet fingers along her stomach, his touch delicate, making her shiver. Then he tugged at her ear with sharp teeth and whispered, “I dreamed of fucking you slowly, until you couldn't take any more, and I woke up so hard it hurt.”

She could see it in her head: his thick hands stroking his cock; the way his shaggy hair, more gray than black now at the temples, would fall across his cheek; his eyes closed tight; how he would arch into his own hand and groan as seed spilled from the red tip of his cock. He wrapped those strong hands around her hips now and thrust inside her and they both cried out in pleasure. He pulled out slowly before sinking deep again, and then groaned like he was in pain. “Maker,” he breathed, “I can't wait anymore.” Thom sped up, and Kaitala moved in time, her hand grasping at him to keep him close. His weight pressed against her at every point, assuring her he was real. They moved as though they could fuck away the time and distance that had passed, until Thom's low, keening groan and Kaitala's own orgasm crashed over her at the same time, sweeping her and all her worries away.

After, he rolled off of her and they lay quietly, hands clasped, until their breathing slowed.

“You're late,” she said eventually.

“It couldn't be helped. Believe me, I left as soon as I could, but Sera-”

“Sera? Say no more,” she said with a laugh. “How is she?”

“Good. Her and Dagna both.”

“They haven't blown up anything yet, have they?”

“Not for lack of trying. You should see the keen little laboratory Dagna travels with. They've been kicked out of nine towns so far.” Thom's voice was warm with love and just hearing it soothed the tension Kaitala had felt as the days passed without his arrival. She turned her head, stared hard at his face. His beard had gone long, too, no longer neatly trimmed as when he'd left. He turned to look at her. “What?”

“Making sure it all looks the same,” she said. She reached down and cupped his now-soft cock. “I already know this is.”

“I'm glad you started with the important bits,” he said wryly. “I promise, I just got delayed by Sera. She gave me something. Well, Dagna did.” His expression was serious. “I'll need to show it to you.”

Kaitala's stomach flipped over. “That sounds bad.”

“It's not good.”

She sat up. “Then show me now.”

“Now?”

“I'm not going to be able to think about anything else until I see it.”

Thom pulled her down towards him, kissed her long and deep. “Sure about that?”

She smiled against his lips, but the knot in her stomach clenched tighter. “Unfortunately, yes.” She slipped out of bed and pulled his traveling shirt over her head, while he stood and tugged on his pants. His smell surrounded her while she scanned the muscled plain of his back, noticed a new scar along the bottom left near his hip. She frowned. Tugging the shirt around to look she noticed it had been hastily stitched and the brown stain of blood.

“Just a small fight,” he said, watching her examination. “Bandits. I took care of them.”

“Where were you with bandits? I thought you were heading to West Hill?”

He sighed. “Let me get the...item. It'll make sense once you see it.” He padded barefoot to the door, but paused before heading out. “I didn't want to bring this home,” he said, “but they thought it was best. I would have destroyed it, to spare you.” Thom glanced back at her and the dismay plain on his face only made the knot in her stomach suddenly burn, so that she thought she may choke on the imagined fire. Thom waited with his hand on the door handle as though he'd just stand there holding the door closed until she changed her mind and called him back to bed. She couldn't talk past the fire crawling its way up to her throat; his broad shoulders slumped and he went outside.

Kaitala looked around their cozy house – the large fireplace she'd insisted on, the giant bed they'd brought from Skyhold that at first looked silly within these simple walls, the Inquisitor sword hanging over the door that she considered a talisman against evil for no reason other than it made her feel a little better. There was the wardrobe passed down to him from his mother and the Qunari quilt from her parents that covered the bed. A small carving in progress, her specially made boots, the chest that held their armor and weapons, the little gifts and letters from their friends and the many people Thom had helped. They were all pieces of the life they'd spent the last two years building. And now, whatever it was that Thom had brought home with him, Kaitala was sure it would rip all those pieces apart.

When he came back in with a small, plain wooden box she was almost disappointed.

“I hope there's something in there,” she managed to say.

“Aye.” He set the box down and they both stared at it for a moment. Then, like they were both slowed, he cautiously set his hands on the latch, undid it, and lifted the lid.

Kaitala peered in. The inside, black cloth along the sides and bottom, was as simple as the outside. It was what was lying on top of the cloth that made her gasp: a hand – a whole forearm, really – shriveled from its normal size, ending at the elbow.

 _Her_ hand.

She swallowed once, twice, tried to find words in the sudden swirl of her thoughts. She felt Thom watching her with a sad, steady gaze. “Where?” she whispered.

“Sera's friends found it during a Jenny mission on a Fereldan noble. They sent it to her as a joke, thinking he was just some Blight-obsessed weirdo. Apparently Dagna got to it first and knew what it was immediately. She said there's still power in it. Sera tried to get more from the noble on where he'd gotten it, but it was a seller who knew a seller who knew a seller. The trail was too difficult to follow. That's when she contacted me.”

Kaitala looked sharply at him. “Did you know she had it when you left here?”

“No,” he said. “Sera found me in West Hill after I'd written my last. She just said she had something important to give me. I thought it'd be a bloody wet willie or I would've sent word for you to come, I swear it.”

She nodded. “Did Dagna say anything else about it?”

“Just that she couldn't unlock the magic in it. And that it 'reeked of power.' Her exact words.”

Kaitala looked down at the forearm. Even now, dark and silent, all she could focus on was the hand itself. She slowly reached towards it, but Thom grabbed her. “Do you think that's wise? Shouldn't we contact Dorian first?”

“The first thing he'll ask is if I touched it. I won't try to use it, I just want to feel it.”

Thom frowned, but he released her. She quickly brushed her fingers along the hand's open palm, before either of them changed their minds. There was quiet, then the hand flashed and started to glow green and a brief jolt of electricity surged through her left arm.

“Shit,” Thom said, pulling her away and standing in front of her. But the hand sat in silence, glowing a dim, familiar green. “Shit,” he repeated, shutting the lid and closing the latch. “Are you all right?”

Kaitala nodded, rubbed the smooth end of her arm. “I felt an ache, quick, but it didn't hurt me. It appears I'm the key, whatever it is.”

“The bandits were Elven,” Thom said quietly. “The ones that attacked. I was a day out of this little town near Lake Calenhad when it happened. No others followed me, that I know of.”

The return of her hand, and more importantly the power of the Anchor still seething inside it, was the most unexpected and dangerous beacon they could have found. “Then it's time,” Kaitala said.

Thom nodded. “If Solas didn't know before, it being active means he knows now. You send the message to Leliana. I'll get our things packed.” He heaved a sigh, looked around the room. “I really loved this house.”

Kaitala cupped his cheek tenderly. “My favorite two years of my life, so far,” she said. “And you never know, we might come back.”

“Aye, we might,” Thom agreed, but his voice echoed the truth. The peaceful pause in their lives had ended, and they would most likely never return. He turned his head to press a kiss to her hand. “Best we get dressed and on our way.”

He helped her dress in traveling clothes, buttoning the breeches for her while she worked the fastenings of her shirt. Kaitala had gotten good at dressing on her own, but it was easier with him. She studied the top of his head as he bent to help her with her boots. Everything was easier with him. He looked up, and reddened when he saw her staring.

“Don't distract me, my lady,” he murmured. “We've got to get going.” He tugged the boot up to settle it and then stood, pulling her up to kiss her. His lips were soft and warm, the kiss unhurried despite everything. All his love for her, the way it sounded out with every beat of his heart, flowed through that kiss. She hoped he felt the depth of her feelings in return, the way just waking to see him every day was a gift, even now. She pressed herself against him, and he wrapped his strong arms around her, neither wanting to end it, until they both pulled back at the same time.

“We're in this together,” he said.

“Always.”

 

* * *

 

After that, they worked in efficient silence.

Once the Inquisition had finalized plans to disband, Kaitala had gathered a much smaller group of confidants to start the process of finding and defeating Solas. Leliana kept track of strange events and sent coded letters suggesting Kaitala check them out. She and Thom would travel there together, under the auspice of the work he did visiting those in need. Inevitably they turned out to be unrelated to Solas' larger machinations, but she and Leliana had developed an emergency meeting plan in case one of them finally stuck. It was that plan that Kaitala and Thom ran through now.

Kaitala wrote a letter to the spymaster, saying that she and Thom were going on a “much needed holiday” to Denerim to “visit with our Elvish friends there.” The wording would trigger Leliana's own response, and they would rendezvous at the pre-selected inn as soon as each could get there. In the meantime, Thom packed up all of their armor, weapons, and traveling equipment on their two horses. Then Kaitala wrote another letter to their closest neighbors, the Cornwalls, a family that had once worked for the Inquisition and that Leliana had verified as being completely trustworthy. Though they knew nothing of the real work Kaitala was doing, they knew they may be called on someday to watch more permanently over her and Thom's house and lands.

“You saved my life,” the woman, Amanthine, had told Kaitala when she and Thom had first stopped in after settling into their new home. “From the very first day – you saved me and my comrades in the mountains. I served for you in the Hinterlands, where I met my husband. You saved him, too, when you stopped those wolves. We are honored to serve you again.”

Kaitala had stammered something she hoped was gracious, and Thom stepped in to remark on their lovely farm, their cheerful young daughter, and that they looked forward to having such kind neighbors. For a man who had spent so many years alone, he always connected with people more quickly than she did. Thom had suggested that being Inquisitor had beaten it out of her, that she'd had to spend so much time being a title she had forgotten how to be a person. “It'll come back,” he assured her. “And I'll take care of it until it does.”

Now Kaitala had grown comfortable with the Cornwalls, and as she turned her attention to the note for them, she realized she would miss her friends here. The Cornwall's daughter, Eleanor, was growing into a bright young woman; Kaitala had thought to introduce her to Cassandra at some point. And they'd just had a boy six months ago. He shared their same cheerful nature, dark hair, and olive skin, but was quiet, even for a baby. Kaitala would've liked to see him grow into those dark and watchful eyes.

“Damn,” she murmured, wiping away tears. Thom, passing by, squeezed her shoulder sympathetically. She sighed and finished writing the instructions for their house, and their goodbyes.

 

* * *

 

They left an hour later. The raven to Leliana was a dark speck in the distance as Kaitala strapped the Inquisitor's sword to her saddle and then mounted her horse, Anaan; Thom had the box in his packs. They both agreed that the further away from it she could be, the better, at least until they figured out how it worked. They'd also decided to wait to contact Dorian until they met up with Leliana. The less magic they used, even if it was a magical item, the more comfortable they both felt. Thom veered off to give the Cornwalls the letter while Kaitala went into the forest to find the stash of supplies they'd hidden there. It wasn't much: some food, some coin, extra clothes, but they would be good to have, especially if they weren't coming back again.

Thom rode up just as she was slowly filling the hole back in. “They said they're happy to keep an eye on things, and they'll harvest for us in the fall. If we're not back by winter, they'll sell the lands and keep the money for the children, just as you said.”

Kaitala nodded. “It's the least we can do.” She shoveled one more pile of dirt onto the mound and then stamped it down. “I have to admit, I hate to leave the bed behind.”

Thom laughed. “Can you imagine dragging that thing behind us all the way to Denerim?”

“At least we'd be comfortable.” She pulled herself up into the saddle. “Slow, but comfortable.”

“What, you don't like bedrolls?”

“It's not the bedroll so much as the ground it's put on.” Kaitala wrinkled her nose. “And the smell when they get wet.”

“You've gone soft,” he teased her.

“I have not. I've just grown accustomed to basic comforts. It's not so much to ask.”

“Well, we'll be in Denerim in a week. I can't push Oatsy too hard, we only just got back.”

“Haven't changed his name yet, I see.”

Thom lifted an eyebrow. “And I won't. Varric won that bet fair and square.”

“You have to stop gambling with him over jousting tournaments. He's named your horse and four of our non-existent children.”

“I quite like Varrita.”

Kaitala laughed and nudged her horse closer to Thom's as they set off. They rode in silence for a few miles, the horse's hooves clipping a steady drumbeat to their journey. The sun was already low in the sky by the time they reached the first crossroad, and they seemed to have the same idea at once as they both slowed to a walk, looking for a good place to camp.

They found a sheltered copse of trees off the main road, and for all the seriousness of their mission, they both talked and laughed openly while they made camp, and then dinner, and then for bed. And Kaitala forgot all about the glowing hand tucked deep inside their packs when Thom quietly unbuttoned her shirt, undid the light binding she had for traveling, and then pressed warm kisses between her shoulders.

This time was slower, sweeter. They savored each other in the dim light of the campfire, letting the long stretch of the quiet night guide them. Thom explored her with his tongue, until his beard was wet and Kaitala could barely speak. Kaitala, in turn, wrapped her lips around him and sucked so slowly and thoroughly his hands were trembling on her shoulders when she stopped just before he peaked.

She tugged him down onto the bedroll and climbed on top of him, settling herself smoothly onto his length. Thom groaned deep in his chest as she moved in a slow, unwavering rhythm that he read perfectly. They watched each other, the shadows rising and falling between them with the firelight. When they'd first started making love, she'd been nervous about the way he often watched her, until she realized it wasn't because he found her strange or exotic. She'd asked him once why he did it. They'd been lying naked together but he still blushed. “I like to look at you,” he'd said. “When I'm pleasing you, the way your eyes burn, the look on your face...it's beautiful.” As she watched him now, saw the way his neck tensed with every roll of her hips, the fire in his eyes when he met her gaze, she understood.

Kaitala threaded her fingers through his and pressed the round tip of her left arm into the curve of his shoulder to steady herself. Their palms were sweaty against each other as she rode him until Thom jerked under her with a soft moan, his free hand tightening on her hip; a moment later her world went bright, and then soft.

Kaitala slid off of Thom and curled against his warm body, drawing one finger through the sweaty curls on his chest. He kissed the base of one of her horns, and then the other, and pulled the blankets up to cover them both before she drifted off to sleep.

 

* * *

 

The following nights, as they got closer to Denerim, their cheerful energy waned. They'd left the hand in its box but Kaitala's gaze seemed constantly drawn to where it was packed away. Thom watched her with sidelong stares, noticed the way she seemed to move more slowly with each day, as dark circles formed under her eyes. She shifted restlessly in the night until he wasn't sure she slept at all. Thom shouldered extra tasks when they camped, encouraged her to sit while he gathered firewood, rushed to get her horse ready before she was awake, but the more he did, the more annoyed she seemed by it. He would have chalked her withering mood and energy up to the travel, but they'd taken a trip together not more than a few months ago. That whole thing had been eight days, and she'd been herself the entire time. Four days into this journey and she was withdrawn, angry, and always glancing towards the box.

When they finally reached Denerim's gates in the late afternoon of the sixth day, he was afraid he'd throw the blasted box into the nearest river if Leliana weren't there to take it from them.

They dismounted and led their horses through the bustle of the huge marketplace. The last deals of the day were shouted from all directions, and those who'd sold all they could were busy taking down their stalls. Thom saw them stare at Kaitala as they passed, but, unlike in Orlais, he heard no slurs or nasty comments. The Qunari threatening on Tevinter's shores had made many of his and Kaitala's recent trips into unpleasant affairs. No one ever did anything, but he had heard enough muttered variations on “ox-lover” to last him two lifetimes, and he was certain it was worse for her. One of the reasons they'd chosen Denerim as their meeting point was the city's blasé approach to non-humans. The Hero of Fereldon had come from the Denerim alienage, and they were more likely than most to remember – and appreciate – that the Inquisitor had been Qunari.

The other reason they'd chosen Denerim was its size. It took the better part of an hour until they'd wound their way through the crowded marketplace and surrounding streets before being deposited in a very average part of the city: not too dangerous but not too fancy, either. The perfect place to stay for a farmer and his one-armed Qunari wife traveling to see friends. They rented a room under the name Blackwall, as per the instructions of the plan, and Kaitala went up with their packs while Thom paid the stable boy to care for their horses. He kept the saddlebag with the box slung over his own shoulder, though.

By the time they'd gotten settled in the room and his stomach had started grumbling, there was a knock at the door. Two quick raps, a pause, then another rap. He and Kaitala shared a look, and they both put their hands on the hilts of their swords as she said, “Come in.”

A hooded figure pushed open the door, stepped smoothly into the room and closed it again with almost no sound. “Lady Adaar,” Leliana said, pulling back her hood. “It is good to see you.”

“Leliana,” Kaitala said with a smile, rising to give her a hug. Thom nodded at the spymaster.

“Still scared of me?” she said, her lips twisting into a wry smile. Thom shrugged, smiling in return, but kept his distance. “You both look well.”

Thom glanced at Kaitala, whose face was drawn as she sat back down on the bed, and knew that for the polite lie it was. “So do you,” Kaitala said, her voice underscoring her weary eyes.

Leliana must have heard it, too, because she nodded and dropped the small talk. “What did you find?”

“It's better if we show you.” Kaitala gestured at Thom, and he carefully pulled the box from his pack. Leliana held out her hands, but he opened it and held it himself for her to see. He didn't miss her swift exasperated glare before she peered in and gasped.

“Your hand! Why is it glowing?”

“I touched it,” Kaitala explained. “It wasn't glowing until I touched it.”

“Have you contacted Dorian?”

“No, we thought it best to wait for you.”

“Good,” Leliana said. “Have you seen any hint of Solas?”

“Elvish bandits attacked me after I'd picked the box up, but nothing since then,” Thom said.

Leliana frowned. “We will assume that's also good. May I?” she asked, gesturing at the box. Thom's fingers tightened on the wood, until he saw Kaitala's small nod, and he slowly transferred it into the spymaster's slender hands. Leliana set the box on the bed, and then gently reached in and lay her fingers on the open palm. They all held their breath, but nothing happened. Leliana's frown deepened and she shut the box. “I have a safe house on the east edge of town,” she said, “near the burned out blacksmith's shop. We will meet there tomorrow once I get wards set up, and we can contact Dorian.” She pulled her hood back on and made for the door.

“You won't stay for supper?” Kaitala asked.

Leliana hesitated. “I must make arrangements for tomorrow, and I'm sure you need some rest after your travels.”

“What're we going to do with that?” Thom asked, eying the box.

“Keep it with you one more night. I can't protect it any better than you would. Until tomorrow, my friends.”

“One minute, I'll go down with you. I want to bring some food up,” Thom said, gesturing for Kaitala to stay put when she shifted on the bed. She frowned, but nodded. He followed Leliana out the door and shut it softly behind them. They were silent going down the stairs; when they reached the bottom she turned to him.

“I don't know,” she said.

Thom blinked. “What?”

“I don't know what's happening to her. You were going to ask me that, weren't you?” The Orlesian accent always made amusement sound so smug, Thom thought.

“I was,” he admitted. “I'm worried.”

“As you should be. She looks worn, more than I've seen her since even Corypheus. Maybe worse. She will need your strength, Thom.”

“I'm not sure I'm much help here.”

“As a warrior, no. But as her partner? As someone who would do anything for her? Well.” She appraised him for a long, silent minute, until he thought she may be somehow reading his very mind. He shifted and, against his will, looked away. She huffed a quiet laugh, but when she spoke, her voice was serious. “I know what you would do for her, and she for you. It's admirable but can be dangerous. The love that binds you two together may save us.” Leliana touched his arm, gentle and quick. “Or doom us, if you forget what we're trying to do. This is going to come down to Lady Adaar, in the end. I believe you will go with her as far as you can, but there is only so far you can go.”

“I will go as far as she needs, and then further,” he said, his voice low.

“That is what troubles me. But,” she said, cutting off his protest, “we don't even know where we are going yet. Let's start there, shall we? Tomorrow morning.” She turned and, swift and silent as a shadow, made her way through the crowd. The other patrons didn't even seem to know she was there. Leliana's warning haunted him as he took their food back to the room, where he found Kaitala curled, already asleep, in the bed. He watched her breath hitch, saw her frown but not wake, trapped in a dream world he couldn't reach.

 

* * *

 


	3. Chapter 3

Kaitala and Thom were at the warehouse early the next morning, swords strapped to their sides. She hadn't slept well, again, and Kaitala felt like she was walking through water, just trying to get her legs moving. Thom watched her with that dark, worried gaze that hadn't left his face for days, moving in to wrap his arm around her waist, taking some of her weight. The support was helpful, but she still had to swallow down her first instinct to shove him away.

“We could've waited for breakfast,” he murmured, his tone concerned rather than accusatory.

Kaitala shrugged and forced herself to lean into his strength. Her amputated arm ached fiercely today, a sharp, electric pain traveling through fingers she no longer had but could still feel. There'd been a lot of that the first year after her encounter with Solas, but it had dimmed with time. Its return made her sleepless temper even sharper. She craned her head to look at the pack slung over Thom's other shoulder; there was no glow emanating from the box inside.

“Everything all right?” he asked.

“I'm fine,” she snapped. Thom grunted and after that they were both quiet until they were inside the warehouse. It was a huge building, about half the size of the great hall of Skyhold, and entirely empty except for a plain, square table in the middle, which Leliana stood next to, her hands clasped behind her. Their footsteps echoed in the expanse.

“Good morning,” Leliana said. “We just finished the wards.” Kaitala looked around, but there was no one in the room except the spymaster. “Nothing sinister,” she said with a smile. “My assistants are outside. They did not need to know everything. The box, please? I'm sure you're eager to begin.”

Thom kept his arm around Kaitala and slid the pack off his other arm, handing it over to Leliana. “We brought the message crystal, too, to contact Dorian.”

“Ah, that will make things easier. I will let my assistants know.” She fished the box out of the pack and set it on the table. Kaitala suppressed a shudder.

“Did you feel something?” Thom asked.

“No,” she said, and her own voice sounded distant and foreign to herself. “Just nerves.”

“Rainier,” Leliana said, “You stand over here,” she pointed to the opposite side of the table. “I'll be next to Lady Adaar. Your job is to close the box if anything suspicious happens.”

“You mean like an amputated hand glowing green all of a sudden?” he asked, and the dry blandness of the question almost made Kaitala smile.

“I mean exactly that,” Leliana said, undeterred. “Lady Adaar, if you will?” She gestured at the box. “I want you to be the only one who touches it, once we connect with Dorian.”

Kaitala moved to the edge of the table, inches away from the box. It was the closest she'd been to it since Thom had brought it home. She expected to feel different, but it looked and felt exactly like what it was: a plain wooden object that could be holding the simplest of items.

Leliana took out the message crystal. Kaitala heard Thom give her the activation words, and, after a pause that felt like all the sound had been sucked out of the room, she heard Dorian's bright, confused voice. “Leliana? Dear me, it's been ages. What are you doing with this crystal?”

“It is good to see you, Magister Pavus.” Kaitala had to laugh at Dorian's disgusted snort. “I'm in Denerim, with Lady Adaar and Thom Rainier.” She turned the crystal so that Dorian and Kaitala could see each other.

“Kaitala, my darling! It's been too long – four or five months at least.”

“Five,” she said, smiling. “Too long, for sure. You look great.”

“Of course I do. I'm concerned about you, though. Is Rainier treating you well?”

“Hey!”

“Better than ever,” Kaitala said, interrupting Thom's retort. She didn't have much energy for banter, even with Dorian. “There's something else going on. Are you someplace safe to talk?”

Dorian pursed his lips, and she saw him look around, then the stomach churning motion as the image heaved and jumped while he hurried somewhere else. There was the sound of a door closing, Dorian saying words she didn't understand, and then he was back. “I am now. Have you found Solas?”

“Not exactly.” Kaitala gestured to Leliana, who shifted the crystal so Dorian could see both her and the box on the table. Kaitala opened it, and, taking a deep, steadying breath, picked the box up to show Dorian the contents. “We did find this, though.”

She didn't understand Dorian's Tevene curse, but the force of it felt exactly right. “Where did you get that?” he asked, all seriousness now.

Tag-teaming the story, they relayed everything that had happened since Sera had contacted Thom, leading up to where they were now.

“Is it draining your energy?”

“No. I'm not sleeping much. And when I do,” Kaitala glanced quickly at Thom, and back to Dorian, “I can feel Solas looking for me.”

“What?” Thom said, starting to move to her side when Leliana held her hand up to stop him. “Why didn't you say something?” he asked, his body leaning towards her.

“There was nothing you could do,” she said.

“You should have told me,” he said, his voice soft, almost hiding the concern.

“Well now you know,” Dorian interjected. “And what can you do about it?” When Thom didn't answer, Dorian continued. “Cheer up, man, Dorian is here to help your lady love. First, though: Kaitala my dear, I need you to pick up the arm again. Just the arm, out of the box.”

“Are you sure that's wise?” Leliana asked. “Now that we know Solas is actively looking for her,” and here she aimed her own frustrated glare at Kaitala, “I am not convinced the wards we have are strong enough. They're mostly fashioned to keep our energy in, not prevent intense detection from without.”

“Solas' power is strongest in the Fade. If he could find her in this world, he would have already. As long as Kaitala isn't dreaming our little chat, and your wards do keep the energy in, we'll be fine. I need to see what happens when she touches it, so we know what we're dealing with magically.”

“It's up to you, my lady.”

The weight of their expectant stares settled like a familiar cloak she'd thought long thrown away. Being Inquisitor had not come naturally to Kaitala; she'd spent much of her time at Skyhold trying to treat her huge army like she had her small group of mercenaries, but the importance of every decision quickly put that to bed. Kaitala had learned how to listen to people - _her_ people – as a ruler would, to sit in judgment with the good of the greatest number in mind. _Well, mostly_ , she thought, glancing at Thom. The most freeing part of disbanding the Inquisition was getting back the ability to decide just for herself, and Thom, with no worry for the consequences beyond themselves.

“I'll do it. Leliana, let your people know they should be on the alert.” Leliana nodded, handed her the crystal, and moved to the far door to relay the message. Kaitala could feel Thom's eyes on her, but she avoided looking at him. “You can protect us from way out there in Tevinter, right Dorian?” Even to herself her attempt at lightheartedness failed miserably.

“Of course I can. You, at least. Not sure about the rest of that lot.”

Thom grunted. “Glad to see you haven't lost your sense of humor.”

“Glad to see you still haven't found yours.”

That did make Kaitala smile. Leliana glided back to the group and nodded. “They're ready.”

“All right.” Kaitala took a deep breath, and exhaled slowly. “I guess we should do this, then. Anything in particular you want, Dorian?”

“No. Simply pick it up, hold it for a few seconds, and then if nothing happens, set it back down.”

“And if something happens?” Thom asked.

“We'll have to think on our feet then, won't we?”

Kaitala handed the crystal back to Leliana, and then used her teeth to pull off her glove. She set it on the table, the faint green light from the box spilling onto the pale draco leather. Kaitala reached in and picked up the hand. _My hand_ , she reminded herself. The green gave her skin a sickly glow, and the hand was warm in hers, the energy of it a low pulse in her palm. They all watched the green crackle silently and then Kaitala grunted as the warmth started to burn. The green sparked, brightened, and began crawling up her arm. It moved slowly, winding around her forearm like a snake. It felt like acid burning its way through her armor, but she couldn't stop staring at it, transfixed. As it moved, it started to get louder, too, popping and hissing, though she wasn't sure if that was the energy or her armor reacting to it.

She heard her name, but all she could do was watch the energy swarm past her elbow, having consumed her entire forearm. She was burning. She felt the pain but from a great distance, just like the voices that kept calling her. Her left arm vibrated, as though the energy moved it.

Suddenly someone ripped the hand from her grip, and the energy clamped around her arm, squeezing it with fire, and the pain slammed into her. Kaitala cried out and fell to one knee. The energy stretched from her arm to Thom, who was holding the hand in both of his, his body straining with it.

“It wants to go back to her!” he yelled.

“Put it in the box!” Dorian's voice cracked sharply over the hissing and Kaitala's cries. She saw Thom throw the hand in and slam the box shut, and the energy vanished, leaving her arm as untouched as if nothing had happened. Even her armor was the same, though she'd been sure the energy had burned through it.

Thom crouched in front of her and took her arm in his strong hands, the fingers peeling at her armor. “Can you hear me? Are you injured?”

Kaitala shook her head, more to clear her mind than answer him. Why wasn't her armor smoking? Pitted?

“Kaitala,” Thom's voice was sharp with fear, and she looked at him. “Say something, love.”

“I'm okay,” she offered, pulling her arm out of his hands. “Everything stopped once you closed the box.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes.” Her nerves were jangling, her body exhausted. Her left arm ached badly, feeling swollen and heavy. She desperately wanted to sleep, but was more afraid than ever to try it. And they were all watching her again, needing her to be all right. “Help me up,” she murmured.

Thom shifted her weight onto his shoulder and lifted her up easily, holding on even after her feet were under her.

“Any other bright ideas, mage?” Thom ground out in the direction of the communication crystal.

“No,” Dorian said, sounding unusually contrite. “Kaitala, I'm sorry that happened. But I do have a much better idea of what we're dealing with here. We have to keep your hand out of Solas'. I suspect he wants it to complete his ritual to destroy the Veil. We need to meet. Can you come to Tevinter? It would help to have my books and tools around me. And I have friends and methods here-”

“No. We cannot use blood magic to defeat him,” Leliana said.

“Amazing someone like you can recoil at blood,” Dorian said archly.

“Isn't there somewhere closer, Dorian?” Kaitala cut in. “Somewhere we could meet halfway. What about Kirkwall? Varric still has a home for us there, and he could help get you the tools you need.”

Dorian nodded. “That will do. And I know just the mercenary to ferry me safely.”

“I have contacts in Harper's Ford, near Highever, that can get us across,” Leliana said.

“We can bring Dagna in to help you, Dorian.”

“I can get word to Sera,” Thom said.

“We could use Cullen and Cassandra, too, just in case there's fighting.”

“A force too large could be a danger,” Leliana said. “We need to travel fast, and quietly.”

“And one too small will get us killed. But you're right, too,” Kaitala allowed. “Let's meet up in Kirkwall with those we've mentioned, and we can plan from there.”

Leliana nodded. “I will send out messages immediately, and let Varric know we're coming. You should rest, Lady Adaar.”

“Is there anything you can do for my sleep, Dorian?”

“I'm afraid not. Unless...Leliana, can you get her some Dreamless?”

Leliana's eyes narrowed, but she nodded. “We will have to dose it just right. Lady Adaar, Dreamless is-”

“Don't tell me about it,” Kaitala said, weary. “Just give it to me. Dorian, we'll see you soon. I wish it was under better circumstances.”

“I look forward to it.” He bowed, and the crystal went dark.

Kaitala pocketed the crystal, and then turned to stare at the box. “Leliana, could you...?”

The spymaster swept the box into her arms. “Consider it done. I know you're tired, but we should leave as soon as we can, the journey will be long.”

Kaitala thought of being back on the road, the hand like a beacon as they rode, Solas hunting for her in dreams. If Thom hadn't been holding her up, she may have crumpled to the floor. The weakness frustrated her, and she forced herself to stand straighter instead. “First thing tomorrow,” she said instead. “We have to re-stock, send our own letter.”

“Don't worry about this, it will be well-guarded.” Leliana tucked the box more securely under her arm. “One of my people will meet you at your room with the Dreamless. Take it exactly as she says. I will meet you at the west gate at dawn.” Leliana bowed her head to them both, and then departed, leaving them alone in the echoing building.

Thom released her, cautiously, like she would fall over without him, and gathered up their gear. She hated the way she wavered slightly without his strength. He returned to her and held out her glove, in a gesture that meant he wanted to put it on her. She yanked it out of his hand instead.

“I wish you'd told me about Solas,” he said, his words bouncing off the high ceiling.

She tugged the glove on with her teeth. “Dorian was right: there's nothing you can do except worry, and I don't need you to do that more than you already are.” He bristled at that, as she knew he would. “It's not your responsibility.” She couldn't get her last finger in the glove, but she kept at it, unwilling to give up.

He crossed his arms, glaring. “It damn well is. And you do the same for me. Aren't you the one who looked at my shirt just a week ago and worried about me handling some bandits?”

“It's not the same.”

“How is it not?”

“Because you can put your fucking gloves on by yourself!” she shouted.

He sighed and held out a hand, “Give it here, let me help.”

Kaitala ripped the glove back off and threw it at his feet, fury and fear and exhaustion raging through her. “Take it,” she said, turning and heading for the door. Her phantom hand was clenched and she couldn't convince her mind to unclench it. Her half arm ached from the tension in her muscles.

Behind her, she heard Thom's armor creak as he bent to pick up her glove. “Maker's breath, Kaitala, wait a minute.”

She halted at the door, but not because of him. Blinking into the late morning sunlight, she stared hard, trying to find the shadow she swore had been there a moment before. Thom came up behind her, and though she could _feel_ the frustration coming off him, he was silent.

“I thought I saw-” she started, quietly, until something slammed into her chest and sent her stumbling back into Thom, knocking them both to the floor. A figure followed, darkening the doorway of the warehouse.

Kaitala rolled to the side off of Thom, pulling her amputated arm tight against her side as she stood and grabbed her sword with her hand. Time stretched out, the familiar slowdown as her attention focused on the danger at hand. She spared a look down at her chest, saw the dirty imprint of a foot on her armor. To her side, Thom had his sword and a small shield he had carried with him, and was advancing on the figure. Kaitala moved a few more steps away from Thom so they could flank, and studied their attacker. Whoever it was had two long, deadly daggers, a slim frame and, when they shifted, the light highlighted pointed ears.

Thom glanced at Kaitala, nodded slightly, and they both moved in to attack. The elf leapt out of the way of Thom's sword and right into Kaitala. Instinctively she tried to throw her own shield out to slam into him, her years of fighting with two hands overriding her current truth, and the rounded end of her left arm bounced ineffectually off of the elf's face, who laughed and sliced towards her stomach with his dagger. Kaitala kicked him in the knee to throw him off balance, and the blade slit a long, shallow cut down the front of her leg instead. Then Thom slammed into him from the side and the two men went careening back to the floor.

Kaitala winced at the sharp pain from the cut when she stepped forward and smashed her foot into the elf's hand on the ground, where it stuck out from under Thom's body. The elf cried out and she ground down harder until he dropped the blade. When she pulled her foot back, he grabbed her heel and she twisted and fell hard to the ground, her head bouncing off the solid wood floor of the warehouse when her half-arm couldn't break her fall. Her vision flashed bright white. When she could focus again, she saw Thom standing in front of her, the elf crouched just beyond him, one blade at the ready, his broken hand hanging limply at his side.

Kaitala rolled again, towards her dropped sword, hoping it would distract the elf long enough that Thom could make his move. It seemed to work. Just as she reached her weapon, Thom leapt forward with a swift slam of his shield and then a straight-ahead strike with his sword. There was the familiar sound of a blade squelching through leather armor and into a body, and the elf cried out. Kaitala stood, ready to fight, but Thom pulled his sword out and shoved it into the elf's heart, and there were no more sounds except the elf's body dropping to the ground.

“Are there more?” Thom asked, breathing hard.

Kaitala edged towards the doorway, peered out and saw only the deserted alley dappled with peaceful sunlight. She watched for another long minute, but the only movement was a bird pecking idly at the charred wood of the blacksmith's destroyed shop.

“It doesn't look like it,” Kaitala said. She turned and saw Thom running his hands over the elf's body, having already kicked the daggers a distance away. “Find anything?”

“No letters, no coin, just this mark on his hand.” Kaitala leaned forward and saw a thickly lined tattoo of a snarling wolf on the elf's palm. “The Dread Wolf,” Thom said.

Kaitala nodded and, as she walked towards Thom, hissed as the fabric of her pants rubbed against the gently bleeding cut in her leg.

Thom was up in an instant, though he stopped a short distance from her. “Are you all right?”

“Got me in the leg. Nothing serious, just hurts.” He nodded, and she saw his hands flex, like he wanted to touch her but restrained himself. With the adrenaline gone, and time returned to normal, exhaustion flooded every inch of Kaitala's body. All she wanted was to wrap around him in bed and fall deeply asleep, and she couldn't do either. They would have to finish their argument sometime, but she couldn't bear it now. “Can you help me back to the inn?” she asked, her voice quiet.

Thom nodded and gently put his arm around her. “What about the body?”

“Leave it. We'll tell Leliana's messenger when she arrives. I'm guessing they don't get a lot of visitors here.”

They stepped back out into the sunlight, and the only thing that greeted them this time was a light breeze. Kaitala could feel the weight of all the words they both wanted to say, of her own shame at how she'd responded in the fight, and of the growing suffocation of Thom's worry. They were silent the entire, slow walk back.

 

* * *

 


	4. Chapter 4

It was Leliana who met them at the inn, with bandages and a poultice that she efficiently cleaned and covered Kaitala's wound with.

“How'd you know?” Thom asked when he saw her waiting for them at the door to their room.

“I would not be a worthwhile spymaster if I didn't,” she'd said.

Now she and Thom were standing over Kaitala as she sat, slumped but awake, on the bed. “I can't leave today,” Kaitala said. The desperate weariness in her voice broke Thom's heart, but he wasn't sure anymore whether this was a battle Kaitala wanted him to fight for her.

“It's not safe here any longer,” Leliana implored. “We can send ravens from the next town. You don't have to ride far today, just far enough to give us some space from Solas' agents.”

“Can't you set up guards?” Thom asked. “Let her have the Dreamless and one night's sleep?”

“If Solas knows she is here in Denerim, I do not have enough guards to protect her. If we could get on the road, there are areas to camp not far away that are more easily defensible. Kaitala can get her rest, but she must push herself a bit further.”

“How much further has she got? For Maker's sake, look at her.”

“Since I'm right here,” Kaitala said, and Thom felt his cheeks burn.

“Sorry,” he murmured.

Leliana bowed her head, and pressed on. “Lady Adaar, it is ultimately your choice, but my counsel is that we leave Denerim as quickly as possible. The longer we stay, the more danger we are in.”

Kaitala was quiet so long Thom thought she had fallen asleep, but she lifted her head and he saw that she had instead been pushing down her exhaustion and drawing on some deep well he could only admire. “You're right,” she said, her voice steady. “We should leave now. Thom, can you get the horses ready?”

“Of course,” he said.

“Leliana, I assume you're already prepared to leave?”

Leliana smiled slightly. “You do know me well.”

“Then let's go, before I get any more tired.”

The trio were quiet as they packed up the room, left extra coin for the innkeep, and Thom readied Oatsy and Anaan. As promised, Leliana's horse was fully stocked and waiting outside. They mounted and rode at a steady clip through the busy late-morning crowds of Denerim and made it out of the city and onto the roads with no attacks.

Leliana led them at a gallop for most of the day, with occasional breaks for the horses. Thom rode at the back, and watched Kaitala's posture sink lower and lower the further they got from the city. The countryside turned from farmland to forest, and still they rode on. He was about to call a halt himself – her or Leliana's anger be damned – when Leliana slowed, held up a hand, and pointed to the side of the road. There was a well-hidden path that took them a short distance into the woods and ended in a small clearing perfectly sheltered by a rock overhang. Leliana had been right: it was easily defensible and difficult to find.

Thom slid off his horse, watched Kaitala dismount clumsily. “We'll get the camp set up,” he said to her, and when she looked like she was going to bite back, he added, “you get the horses settled with food and water.”

“There's a creek that way,” Leliana said, tying her horse's reins to Oatsy's saddle. Kaitala nodded and led the horses down a game path through thick bushes, the reins loose in her hand. Several minutes after she'd left, Leliana turned to Thom. “I don't know what's going on between you-” he snorted, doubting that, “-but you must put it to rest.”

“Not tonight,” Thom said. “Tonight she needs sleep.”

“Then soon. Swallow your pride, if you must, and fix it.”

“I don't need relationship advice from you,” he grumbled.

“It's not-” Leliana sighed. “It is,” she admitted. “I don't trust that you've been in many successful relationships, Rainier.”

“Well, I haven't, particularly,” he huffed. “That doesn't matter. I won't hurt her, not on purpose.”

“Men are dumb,” Leliana said simply.

His aggravated response was stalled by the whicker of horses and brush cracking as Kaitala led them back.

They worked together to get the camp set up, Thom and Leliana both giving Kaitala the simplest jobs. With each one she grew more visibly annoyed and also more visibly exhausted, and the apparent stalemate between those kept them all silent. The pack with the box was relegated to the deepest part of the overhang, and Thom felt it like a dark shadow at every second.

He hated the tension that pulsed between them, the way Kaitala kept to herself, never smiling or talking. They'd fought before, little arguments, mostly, over the kinds of things Thom supposed couples always argued about, even if one of them had been the Inquisitor: the small habits that you only discovered after you'd been living together for a time; the way they handled certain chores; when a long, hot day made them tense and tired. But there was never this ugly distance that went with it. When they fought, they were still on each other's side. Whether it was Thom's worry, Kaitala's exhaustion, or both, he couldn't help feeling that she was much further away than a few steps around the fire.

After a dinner of roast chicken and potatoes that Leliana had packed as a treat, the spymaster produced a small vial from her pocket. “I brought the Dreamless,” she said, “if you still want it.”

Kaitala glanced to Thom, and he shrugged. He hoped she'd take it, but was afraid that saying so would put her off it, given the day. “Please,” she said.

Leliana put three drops in a mug with a small amount of boiled water, and handed it to her. “It will only take a few minutes to work, so prepare yourself beforehand.”

Once Kaitala was ready, she sat down on her bedroll near the fire, and then picked up the mug and swallowed it in one gulp. She lay down and was asleep almost immediately. Thom watched her for a long minute, and her breath stayed slow and deep.

“You should sleep, too,” Leliana said. “I'll take first watch.”

Thom didn't think he could sleep, until Leliana shook him awake for his shift. He rubbed his eyes and pushed himself to his feet, biting back a groan. He'd joked with Kaitala about going soft, yet his own body reminded him daily how much better he liked beds these days. Thom stretched and glanced at Kaitala, who hadn't moved at all, her arms still tucked against her side, her breaths even.

“She has not stirred,” Leliana said. “And she likely won't for hours yet.”

Leliana slipped into her bedroll and Thom paced the edge of their encampment, stretching his arms out to limber up. He'd spent a lifetime taking night watches, sleeping on hard, cold ground. _When we're done here, I'm never sleeping on the ground again_ , he vowed.

Hours later, he was crouched next to the fire when the hair on the back of his neck stood up. Someone was watching them. He stayed put, trying to place the general area. It seemed to be coming from his right. Thom poked the fire, looked around, and then forced a yawn. He shuffled to his bedroll, making a show of rubbing his eyes. He wanted whoever it was to wait until he could wake Leliana, at least; if they thought he was heading to bed, they likely would, for an easier kill.

He took the long way to his bedroll, past Leliana, and paused to kneel down just past her, at her feet, like he'd seen something in the dirt. Thom took a moment to press his hand against her leg, and he glanced her way and saw her eyes open. He flicked his gaze back to where he thought the watcher was, and he saw her nod ever-so-slightly. Thom palmed his dagger from his boot, and stood and hurled it into the bushes in a smooth motion, and was rewarded with a pained yelp. Then two other elves burst from opposite ends of the campsite.

Thom had time to see Leliana roll to her feet and grab her bow before the nearest elf was on him. He had barely unsheathed his sword before the elf swung her long sword at him, and the force of their blades meeting cracked through his wrist. He grimaced and side-stepped, and she stumbled past him. Thom glanced to Kaitala, but she slept on.

Thom turned to face the elf again, and parried her furious thrusts, pushing her away from Kaitala's sleeping form until Kaitala was at his back and the elf on the other side of him. The elf took a step back to evaluate, giving Thom a chance to pull his shield and watch Leliana fire an arrow at close range that only nicked her opponent. Then the female elf was at him again, coming in from the side and trying to herd him away from Kaitala. She ducked under his too wide swing and now her back was to Kaitala. Thom pressed his attack, trying to keep the elf focused on him so she didn't have time to attack the Qunari's still form. The ringing of swords, everyone's irregular shouts and curses, should have woken Kaitala by now, but she slept on, the Dreamless at work.

There was a rustle in the bushes and the elf Thom had hit with his dagger stumbled out and joined the female elf, flanking him. Thom saw he'd gotten the elf a solid hit in the side, and he was gripping the wound with one hand and holding a short sword in his other. The two elves attacked at once, and Thom batted aside the short sword with his shield, focusing most of his attention on the female elf and her quick strikes. There was a pained, guttural cry from the third elf Leliana was facing, and when the injured male hesitated to see what had caused it, Thom rushed him with his shield and slammed the elf into the ground. There was a satisfying crunch and blood poured from the elf's face. The woman had been a second too slow and her sword thwacked into the ground a step behind Thom, so he spun and kicked her hand away from it, her sword falling to the ground.

Thom paused to take stock of Kaitala, who was still uninjured and asleep. In that moment, the female elf had pulled a wicked dagger that she plunged deep into Thom's calf. He cried out and threw his elbow backward, catching her in the head and sending her reeling. But as he tried to turn and follow up the attack, he stumbled on his injured leg and went to one knee. To his side, the male elf pulled himself to his feet, eyes blazing, when an arrow appeared in his chest, and he dropped back to the ground. The remaining elf leapt forward and Thom brought his shield up, her dagger clanging against it. He thrust his sword up underneath the shield, and slid the sharp blade into the elf's ribcage. She choked and the dagger dropped to the ground, not far from her longsword. She fell, dead, when Thom yanked his sword free.

His and Leliana's ragged breathing was loud in the sudden silence. Thom stayed on his knee, his leg throbbing. When he looked at it, blood pulsed out in a way that he knew was a concern. Leliana walked slowly towards him, blood dripping from a long, shallow cut down her neck and across her chest. Thom saw the third elf she'd fought on the ground, multiple arrows in his body.

“You all right?” Thom asked, using his sword to leverage himself to his feet.

“Better than you. You'll need a potion for that. Do you have any?”

“Just a couple. They've been hard to come by since the Chantry wars.”

Leliana nodded. “I only have a few with me, myself. Stay there,” she added, when he started to move to the packs. She grabbed a potion from her pack and handed it to him. Thom gulped it down, felt the familiar tingling fizz spread from his throat through his body, concentrating like a sparking fire at the wound in his calf.

“What about you?” he asked.

“It's not deep. Did they get to Kaitala?”

“No.” He looked, and she was still lying in the same position she'd been in since she fell asleep. “She didn't stir at all.”

“That is the Dreamless. Take care of the bodies while I deal with this,” she said, gesturing at her injury.

Thom nodded and examined the three bodies thoroughly, finding the same snarling wolf of their first attacker on each of them; the men both had it on their upper right arms, the woman on the left side of her back. He dragged the bodies to the edge of the clearing and put them in a tight pile. He didn't have a shovel big enough to build a grave, so he found some branches and other clearing in the area, and covered them up with Leliana's help. By the time they'd cleaned up the bodies, themselves, and their equipment, the sun had come up over the horizon and it was time to move on.

Kaitala, however, still slept, even when Thom tried to wake her.

Not knowing what else to do, Leliana hunted a few fresh rabbits for breakfast, which Thom stripped and roasted. Over breakfast, Leliana shared updates on Josephine, and Thom passed along what he'd heard from Cassandra, and then they spent a good hour laughing over memories of Sera's pranks at Skyhold. Thom watched Leliana chuckling about the time Sera had changed out chef's flour for sugar and decided maybe she wasn't as scary as she'd always seemed to him. They had never talked to each other much during their long time together with the Inquisition. Thom had often been out with Kaitala on missions while Leliana handled her own, and when he was in Skyhold, he never visited the tower and Leliana almost never came to the stables, and certainly never to talk to him. Even after he'd been found out as Rainier, she had seemed more annoyed with not having known first than anything. Now she was smiling and launching into a story about a prank she'd pulled as a young bard in Orlais, and Thom realized they might even be friends, if this kept up. _Friends with Sister Nightingale_ , he mused. _There's a surprise._

They'd eaten their shares and had packed camp when Kaitala finally stirred. She pushed up to her elbows and blinked slowly at them.

“Good morning,” Thom said, his tone gentle. “How are you feeling?”

Kaitala rubbed her eyes and squinted at him. “Groggy. How long did I sleep?”

“Through the night, and into the morning. The sun has been up for several hours,” Leliana said.

“Why didn't you wake me? We need to keep moving, before we're attacked again.”

Thom crouched down next to her. “About that,” he said, and then explained everything that had happened since she'd fallen asleep. Horror crept across her face, replacing the lingering sleepiness.

“I shouldn't have used the Dreamless,” she said.

“I disagree,” Leliana said from a few steps away. “We need you rested. The lack of sleep was affecting you too severely. And we took care of it.”

Kaitala frowned but when Thom stood and automatically held out his hand to help her up, she took it with a nod instead of the frustration from the day before. “I do feel better,” she said, “but no more until Kirkwall.” She bent and kissed Thom, placing her hand on his chest. His body relaxed under her familiar touch, and he covered her hand with his own.

Leliana cleared her throat, and they both looked over at her. “We should be going. We'll need to get to the next town to send ravens, and I will have my people come deal with the bodies. Can you eat while we ride, Lady Adaar?”

Kaitala nodded and Thom watched her head to the pile he'd created, pull back the foliage to look at the bodies underneath. For a mercenary, she had a deep core of empathy, and he wondered if she was feeling that now, seeing just the elvish bodies and not having been part of the battle. He both loved and worried about that part of her, and all the ways she was asked to shove it aside. When she straightened again, there was firm resolve, and a banked anger, in her eyes. “Let's go,” she said.

 

* * *

 


	5. Chapter 5

It was four days of hard riding to get to Highever, during which Kaitala refused to take the Dreamless, and she began to sink back into an exhausted stupor. The days were long and often dull as they galloped in silence through the countryside, pausing only long enough to rest the horses so they could make it to the next camp. Her nights were anxious and restless, usually spent half-awake as she struggled to keep herself hidden from Solas' probing presence. She wasn't sure why he couldn't find her when his elves had, but she suspected they had a general order to attack on sight, and weren't able to get word back to Solas since she and her friends kept killing them.

They were attacked two more times before finally seeing Kirkwall's soaring black cliffs and the hunched bronzed shoulders of the Twins from the bow of the ship Leliana had provided to get them across. Both times it was a single elf, quickly dispatched. Both of them had the same mark of Fen'harel as the others, one on the thigh, the other on their shoulder. The worst part was how their group tensed every time they saw an elf on the road or waiting peacefully at the docks for their own transfer across the sea. It galled Kaitala, having her whole life felt that same judgment for being a Qunari and worse now with the addition of her missing arm, but even she struggled to smile at the families they passed.

Their ship sailed slowly between the Twins, and the bustling Kirkwall docks greeted them with the dull roar of sailors, merchants, and animals all having their say. On the hill, at the top of Hightown, Kaitala could see the pointed tip of the Viscount's Keep.

They disembarked and walked their horses through the busy crowd, and Kaitala wanted to cry when she saw Varric striding towards them, arms out in welcome. For the first time since Denerim, she didn't feel like she'd die in her sleep tonight.

“Lady Adaar!” he boomed. “The City of Chains welcomes you, Key Holder.”

Kaitala huffed a dry laugh and bent to hug him tightly. “Viscount Tethras,” she said formally. “I hope you're going to let me raise the chain net while I'm here.”

“We can negotiate that,” he said, though Bran, hovering behind the dwarf, paled and shook his head no. “Nightingale! Hero! Glad to see you two as well. Come on,” he said to Kaitala, “I've got your house all cleaned out and fancied up for you, but it's a bit of walk.” He gestured and Bran rushed forward. “Lead the lady's horse, will you? She's traveled all this way.”

The man nervously eyed her big steed. “I, uh, I'm not really good with horses, my lord.”

“It's all right, he's happier with me anyway,” Kaitala said. Bran nodded, grateful, and she gestured for Varric to start walking.

“How you doing, kiddo? You look rough.”

Kaitala smiled. “Not very diplomatic of you.”

“I'm still working on that. But really: what's going on?”

His concern touched her, and through the foggy mists of tiredness she felt herself tear up. “I'll explain when we're somewhere more private. There have been...developments.”

“ _Oh_ ,” he said, understanding what she meant at once. They'd kept their letters to their friends urgent and without detail, and though they'd likely suspect Solas, she knew the hand would shock them all.

“Has anyone else arrived?”

“No. Leliana said to expect some others, but so far you're the only ones here. Hey,” he said, when he noticed her falling behind him as she struggled to keep his speed. “Let me give you the VIP tour.” He spent the rest of the walk pointing out all the improvements he'd made to Lowtown in the last few years, bucking her up with jokes when she stopped responding beyond grunts, and eventually holding her hand the last short distance through Hightown as her impressive estate loomed before them. She felt Thom's steady, worried gaze at her back, but she kept her focus forward, fighting through the effort of placing one foot in front of the other.

“We're here!” Varric said too loudly, and Kaitala's head jerked up. She'd nearly fallen asleep walking here. She prayed to Andraste that Dorian had something to help her beyond the Dreamless. The lack of sleep would kill her if Solas' people didn't.

A stable hand came and took their horses away, while Varric murmured something to Neidre, the keeper of the house, who met them at the door. Kaitala and Thom had visited the estate shortly after they'd left Skyhold for the last time, spending a pleasant week in the luxury Varric had set up for them. There were plenty of rooms for all of her friends to stay, an impressive kitchen, and even a small ballroom if they were interested in throwing a party. Most important to her now, though, was the giant, soft bed in their room for later, and the big warm bath she would have first.

“Get some rest,” Varric said. “Neidre will get you anything you need, but mostly it seems like you need some sleep. We can talk more over dinner tonight. I'll come here for that; I could use a change of dining scenery. Nightingale,” he said, turning to Leliana, “try not to break anything drilling holes or whatever you bards do to make your spying areas. Rainier, I believe you owe me a game of Wicked Grace?”

“I look forward to it,” Thom said. “I've got the perfect name for your next main character.”

Varric laughed, the sound bouncing off the stones of the entryway. “There's no way it's better than your next kid's name.” He and Thom grinned at each other, and then he tapped his forehead with his fingers and bid them goodbye.

The trio walked inside, Leliana looking around appreciatively. “This is lovely.”

“Varric took care of all of it,” Kaitala said. “He decorated it, he hired the staff, he stocked the kitchens.”

“He's got an excellent eye,” she said, pausing in the hallway. “Shall I get the Dreamless ready for you?”

“No, not yet. I'll take it tonight; for now I just need a bath.”

“Kaitala.” That was Thom, and his disapproval flared through her.

“It's my decision,” she said.

“That doesn't mean it's the right one. You're dead on your feet.”

“I'll be fine.” When it looked like he would protest again, she spit out, “Keep it to yourself.” That one hurt, she could see it on his face.

Leliana stepped forward. “I'll leave you two to work this out. The Dreamless is in your pack, Kaitala, if you need it. You know how to administer it safely now.” She nodded and gestured for Neidre to show her to her room.

Thom and Kaitala glared at each other for a moment, and then she abruptly turned and strode down the hall to their large bedroom.

“You're mad at me again,” he said when he'd shut the door behind them.

“Of course I'm mad, you're treating me like a child.”

“How is trying to stop you making a stupid decision treating you like a child?”

“Calling it a stupid decision for one,” she said, setting her pack on the floor. When she stood, the room spun and she stumbled a step until Thom grabbed her arm. She yanked herself free. “Stop it!”

Thom ground his teeth, and folded his arms over his chest. “Fine, next time I'll let you fall.”

“You're being an ass about this.”

“ _I'm_ being an ass? Dammit, Kaitala, I'm just trying to help.”

She sat down on the bed and started working at her boots to get them unhooked and off. It would've been easier with Thom, but she would rather have slept in them than ask for his help now. He watched her struggle, and she saw the knuckles on his hands go white as he gripped his own arms tightly, forcing himself to let her do it. “I don't need your help,” she muttered.

Thom remained quiet for a long minute and when he spoke, his voice was low. “I know I was overprotective those first months. We had that out, and that was fair. But I've stopped that, or tried to. I've tried to make your life easier because I love you, not out of pity. And with all that's going on, things are a lot harder right now. I don't care if you had eleven arms, I'd still worry about a demigod stalking you in your dreams and you so exhausted you fall asleep standing up. I'd still catch you when you were about to fall.”

“It would be different if I didn't have this,” she gestured with her amputated arm. “I don't want your protection.”

“Why? How is it different?”

“Because it's real now!” He frowned, confused, and the words flooded out of her. “We've been living a half life the last two years: farming, simple trips; for Maker's sake, we raise _chickens_. There's been no real danger, no threat. It's like we were in a bubble. I could hack at a practice dummy and try to learn how to fight without a shield, but it was still hacking at a practice dummy. There's been no need for you to protect me because there's been nothing to protect me from. Helping me with my boots when the biggest worry we have is whether a frost will take out our beans means nothing. But now our bubble has popped and you don't think I can do it!”

“Thinking for me now, are you?”

She could feel the anger simmering off of him. “I don't think I can do it, either,” she admitted, deflated.

Thom knelt before her, but didn't touch her. “Kaitala,” he said, and she dropped her hand from her boot and looked up at him. Silence filled the space between them as they each took a deep breath. “You're right: I'm more worried than when we were fighting Corypheus. Before the attacks this week, neither of us had fought much since then, and we both know practice only gets you so far. But I'm not worried because of what you can or can't do. I'm worried about what _I_ can't do. This is all beyond me. I hit things with swords, not grab magic hands or scare off gods.” Thom pushed his hands through his hair, frustrated. “I wasn't a young man when we met, and time keeps pressing onward. Top it off with the fact that you do have one arm and you haven't much battle-tested your skills, and I don't know what to do _but_ worry, and try to do what I can. Still,” and he did touch her, a brief, soothing caress down her left arm. “I see now that it drags on you, makes you doubt yourself. And for that I'm sorry. I know losing the fighting skills you'd earned was hard, when you lost your hand. But they're not gone, just changed, I've seen that already. And your mind, your spirit, are still the same as those I've admired since the first day we met. You are the only person in the world I would trust with this quest. That you have to believe.”

The truth of it was plain on his weathered face. He'd never been good at keeping his feelings hidden from her. It was one of the things she loved about him. Kaitala sighed. “I do,” she said. “You have to let me do what I need to here. The others may not have your belief.”

“I can't imagine they wouldn't, but I'll step back as much as I can. You'll ask for help when you need it?”

“I'll try.”

“Kaitala.”

“I'll try,” she promised. “And if you need to push every once in awhile, I won't get too annoyed.”

He smiled. “All right.” Thom ran his fingers over the tops of her thighs, and suddenly the air in the room seemed very warm. “If you're not interested in sleeping, my lady, might I interest you in something else?”

“I was hoping for a bath,” she teased.

“I can accommodate that.” He gently pushed her legs apart and shifted forward so he was between them, his broad chest stretching them open. Kaitala inhaled sharply when he ran his hands over the top and down the inside of her thighs, his thumbs pressing against her in firm strokes.

“Bath later,” she murmured, dragging him up onto the bed with her.

Later that night, after their time in bed, a warm bath, and a walk around the grounds to keep Kaitala awake, they met Varric and Leliana for dinner at the long table in the formal dining room. The chef had prepared a small feast: individual roasted quails, a mountain of fresh vegetables, and a loaf of bread the size of a small pig. It smelled delicious, steaming and spicy, and from the way the others devoured theirs, tasted delicious, too, but Kaitala couldn't do more than pick at her food. She felt Thom struggling to keep his voice light, his smile easy, and let her be. He'd trimmed his beard and hair again and he looked years younger as he bantered with the others. The dinner conversation roamed over what they had all been up to the last few years, with sidelines onto the adventures of some of their missing companions. Varric had seen Cole just a few months ago, traveling with Maryden, and after they'd blown through Kirkwall a small portion of the community had held a spontaneous flower parade.

“It was the damnedest thing,” Varric said. “We found flower petals in all sorts of places for weeks.”

None of them had spoken to Vivienne, now Divine Victoria, since they'd left the Winter Palace after the Exalted Council. She'd been too busy navigating the unsteady peace between the Chantry and the College of Enchanters, and trying to right the image of both with the public. Cassandra had kept them in the loop, but now that she was off on her Seeker business, news from the Chantry was sparse.

“Leliana, were you able to contact Cassandra?” Kaitala asked.

“I believe so,” she said, taking a small sip of the rich red wine Varric had provided. “We will see.”

Varric waved off the servants and leaned forward once they were gone. “So when are you going to spill the real reason you're here? Finally figure out how to have a half-Qunari baby?”

Kaitala laughed and Thom choked on his drink. “What?” he sputtered. “Mercy, no. Can you imagine me with a baby? I'm afraid I'd break it.”

She shook her head, having seen Thom with the Cornwall's. He'd bounced both of them happily on his knee and tickled them with gentle fingers. _He would've made a great father_ , she thought. “It's not that,” she said out loud. “Sera found something we think can stop Solas, and now he knows about it.”

“So that's why you asked for the extra guards,” he said to Leliana. She toasted him with her empty wine glass. “What's this thing that Sera found? Do you have it?”

“It's in our room,” Kaitala said. “It's, well it _was_ , my hand.”

Varric's eyes went wide. “The one Solas took off? I thought it had burned up?”

“That's what I thought, too, but it appears not.”

“How did she find it? Who had it? Where did they get it from?”

“Sera didn't know any of that,” Thom said. “It was sent to her by one of her Jennies from some random nobleman.”

“How can it stop Solas?”

“It's still connected to the Fade,” Kaitala said. “If I can't use it to actively stop him, I'm sure he needs it for his ritual. If we keep it away from him, then we've as good as stopped him.”

Varric frowned. “You can't run from him forever. You're going to have to destroy it.”

“We'll see what Dorian has to say, once he gets here.”

“So how does Solas know you have it?”

Kaitala glanced at the others. “When I touched it, it flared up with the Fade energy again and tried to...take me over.”

“Sounds pleasant.”

“The box it's in seems to contain it; I haven't felt anything since Thom locked it back up. But we've been attacked by multiple elves on our trip here, and Solas is looking for me when I fall asleep.”

“Well, shit. No wonder you look so tired.” He tapped his fingers on the thick wooden table. “Are you getting any sleep at all?”

“Just when I take Dreamless, but-”

“But that's gonna knock you out, and you need to be able to wake. I have something better, a ring that provides protection from dreams. I don't really understand how it works, being a dwarf and all, but I think it'll do the trick.”

Kaitala set her glass down quickly, relief making her suddenly weak. “Maker, I could use some sleep,” she said.

“One moment,” Varric said, standing. He disappeared for a bit while they looked curiously at each other, and on his return he explained he'd sent a message to have the ring brought up at once. “Any other problems I can solve for you?”

“Do you have any plans for destroying the hand?” Leliana asked dryly.

“I might, Nightingale, I might. But I'd rather wait for the mages to sort that out. Rainier – a game of Wicked Grace to pass the time until the ring gets here?”

“Sounds excellent. Kaitala?”

“No,” she had both hands flat on the table, keeping herself upright by sheer force of will. Now that respite was near, her body had decided this was as far as she could go. “I can hardly think straight,” she said, and her words were slurred to her own ears. “I'm gonna get fleeced.”

“Kaitala?” Thom said, from very far away. She heard the scrape of his chair, her friends talking urgently, the coolness of the hard table against her cheek. Thom's voice filtered through the darkness. “No sleep yet, love.” But it was already too late.

“Kaitala?” It was not Thom's voice this time. Kaitala felt dread ripple through her.

“Solas.”

He looked the same physically, except for his eyes. The last time they'd met, there had still been compassion in them. Now they were so distant, so ancient, she truly felt like she was talking to a god.

“Your will is even stronger than I had anticipated. But one cannot outrun dreams forever.”

She looked around, saw they were standing in the smoldering ruins of Haven just after Corypheus had burned it down. Even now, the ache of that loss stabbed at her. She closed her eyes, willing herself to hear Thom calling her name, imagined she could feel him shaking her body.

“Your friends are persistent,” Solas said, “but you will wake when I am done, and no sooner.”

Kaitala opened her eyes, saw he'd stepped closer to her, and the dread turned to electric fear. “What do you want?”

Solas raised one elegant eyebrow. “Let's not play games, Kaitala. I know what you found, though I don't know how you've hidden it from me for so long.” Briefly his face contorted with frustration, and the realness of it tamped her fear. Her friend was not gone.

“Please don't do this.”

“This part can be easy for you,” he said.

“Tell that to your Elvish friends.”

She hated the look of genuine regret on his face. “I am sorry for that. My followers are overly enthusiastic. But you know I will get the hand eventually. No one needs to die.”

“Not here. But when you perform your ritual-”

“I told you, if I could change that, I would.”

“There has to be another way.”

“There _is_ no other way,” Solas said, spitting out the words. He closed his eyes, and Haven disappeared, replaced with the front gates of Kirkwall. It was empty but for them, and when Solas' eyes opened, the triumph there made her nauseous. “Ah,” he said. “I've found you. It's just one step further to find the hand. Once I do, I will send associates to you. Give them the hand, and you can peacefully spend the last days of your life with your beloved.”

“Maker damn you,” she hissed.

“Oh, my friend,” he said, and his sadness wrapped tight fingers around her heart, “He already has.”

She reached out, but everything wavered and her world went black.

 

* * *

 


	6. Chapter 6

“Come on, come on,” Thom murmured, shaking Kaitala insistently. She'd passed out at the table, completely exhausted. Varric's runner had returned with the ring and Thom had slid it onto her finger as quickly as possible – the movement a bizarre flashback to their quiet wedding ceremony – but with her furrowed brow just before, he worried they were too late. “Kaitala,” he said, his lips near her ear, “we need you to wake up, love.”

She stirred, finally, and her eyes fluttered open. She blinked hard and then whispered, “we have to go.”

Thom helped her sit up and fetched her water while she explained what had happened. Before she'd finished, he saw Varric already speaking urgently with Neidre.

“I think the ring worked,” Kaitala ended. “Solas said he wouldn't let me wake up until he was done.”

Thom gripped the back of her chair tightly. “Did he hurt you?”

“No.” She pressed her hand against one of his. “He doesn't seem to want to. He keeps saying he wishes there was another way. He regrets it.”

Thom snorted derisively. “Poor baby.” But he forced his hands to unclench.

Leliana took a last, unhurried drink of her wine. “It was only a matter of time before they found us,” she said. “But I had hoped Dorian would arrive first.”

“Kirkwall is a big city, and I know more of her than most,” Varric said, rejoining them. Neidre rushed out the door. “We should be able to hide out at least another couple of days until the others get here, although it won't be as fancy as all this.”

“We're not a fancy sort,” Thom said.

“Speak for yourself, Rainier.”

Varric smiled. “That's the Spymaster I know and love. All right everyone, get your essentials packed. We're leaving here at moonrise.”

They were ready quickly, and were met with their mounts at the front of the house. Thom kept a close eye on Kaitala, and though she was quiet, she moved with steady speed, the exhaustion of before kept at bay.

Varric led them through the dark on horseback. The moon was a sliver in the sky, a rare mark in their favor for once. Their path wound through the back alleys of Lowtown, streets Thom had not walked since he'd been a young soldier on leave, spending every last coin on wine and women. Both wine and woman were much better now, he thought, admiring Kaitala's tall, straight lines ahead of him, the rich dark brown of her skin, the sharp point of her horns. He never could have imagined then his life leading to this, but he had been a terribly short-sighted and prideful young man. Thom smiled, thinking of how the conversation would go if he could tell his 20 year old self someday he'd be married to the most famous Qunari woman in Thedas.

“Enjoying the view?” Leliana asked from his side, startling him out of his reverie. Thom blushed, and Leliana laughed softly. “I just wanted to tell you good work. Whatever you and Lady Adaar did, it seemed to have resolved your problem for now.”

“I'm not completely daft at relationships,” he grumbled.

Leliana inclined her head. “Do you think Solas will come for her himself?” she asked after a quiet minute, breaking the monotony of the horse's feet on cobblestones.

“I hope so,” he said.

“You would have no chance of defeating him. You must know that?”

Thom shrugged. “The things I don't know could fill every Chantry in Thedas. But I know I could give it a hell of a shot.”

“Rainier.” Her tone was so serious, he looked over. Her eyes were dark under the shadow of her hood. “If he does show, you must not attack him. He will kill you. Instantly, if you're lucky.”

“Worried about my life, Sister Nightingale?”

“Perhaps. Worried about what it would do to Lady Adaar, certainly.”

“Thanks.”

“She needs you, Thom. You are the base from which she operates. Without you, she is weaker.”

Thom bristled on Kaitala's behalf. “She's strong enough without me. Stronger, maybe. She didn't need me to lead the Inquisition, to defeat Corypheus, to face Solas the last time.”

“No, but you were there at her side. I would never question Lady Adaar's abilities; lest you forget, I was part of the Council that selected her as Inquisitor. But she is,” and here Leliana paused, and they both watched Kaitala as she leaned down towards Varric and whispered something that made him chuckle loudly in the night. “She is lighter, when you are around. You are her safety net, as though she knows you will pick up her burdens if she cannot carry them further. That you will be the very breath in her lungs, should she need it. How would _you_ feel if she needlessly died?” Leliana urged her horse forward, leaving the unanswered question with Thom.

He swallowed hard, sitting with the weight of his thoughts. Thom had loved his mother and sister, had held the bonds of friendship forged in battle with his comrades and later his own men, had even loved other women in his time, but this soul-deep devotion to Kaitala had turned his whole self inside out. When he'd first turned from the villagers he'd been training and seen her there, armor and horns gleaming in the sunlight, that hopeful question on her face, he'd known down to his worn boots that his life would change. He had assumed he was giving his life to the cause, that he would die protecting innocents and that Andraste might look more kindly on him given the terrible actions of his past. But with the whirlwind of loving Kaitala, of all that came with it, there had also been the realization of how terrifying it was to want to live, to need that, too, of the person you fought next to day in and day out. In their two years since the Inquisition disbanded, Thom had not missed the constant struggle between admiration and anxiety every time Kaitala ran headlong into a fight.

Here they were again, danger seeking her out like an arrow fired from Sera's deadly bow. Thom knew he'd stand no chance against Solas. He also knew, down where he shoved all of his most shameful thoughts, that he could not survive if Kaitala died first.

“This is it,” came Varric's stage whisper. He reined in his horse at the end of an empty alley and dismounted, motioning for the rest of them to do the same. Thom shook his head, trying to clear out the clinging dread of his thoughts, and slid off of Oatsy. The air smelled faintly of salt water, which meant they were near the docks, but all he could see were tall, dark buildings all around them. Varric knocked a complicated pattern on the wall, and after a minute a door appeared where there had been solid stone. “After you, my lady,” he said, gesturing for Kaitala to go first.

“Wait,” Thom said, too loudly, startling the all. “I'll go first,” he said more quietly. _How would you feel if she needlessly died?_ echoed in his head.

Varric glanced at Kaitala who shrugged and moved out of the way. Thom led Oatsy through the door, just wide enough to fit their horses, and found himself in a long hallway lit by warm lanterns. An elf stood at the end of the hallway, holding a crossbow.

Thom pulled his shield off Oatsy and was shouting “watch out!” even as he dropped the reins and sprinted towards the elf. The elf's eyes widened and he dropped his crossbow, just as Varric yelled “he's a friend, Rainier!” from behind Thom.

Thom skidded to a halt with his sword raised half a foot from the elf. They were both breathing hard. “Are you sure?” Thom asked.

“Yes, I'm very sure. Malachi, back up, back up, give the human some space to regain his senses.” The elf backed up, but he only had a few feet between Thom and another door at his back. “Rainier, put your sword away.”

Thom lowered his sword to his side. The elf, Malachi, looked young, and terrified. “Sorry,” Thom said gruffly.

Malachi nodded too fast, sweating. “M-master Varric?” he said, peering past Thom.

“Here.” Varric shoved past Thom with a glare, and Thom took the hint and went to grab Oatsy's lead. When he glanced at Kaitala she lifted her brows and shrugged.

Once they all crowded into the now-too-small hallway, Malachi slunk through their ranks and closed the door leading back to the alley, while Varric opened the new door and led them into a huge warehouse.

“Our new home, for the next couple of nights at least,” Varric said, ushering them in. It was a single, huge room inside, with a small fire crackling in the circular fire pit, six decently sized tents, and places off to the sides for the horses and latrines. “And I believe there's someone waiting for us,” he added.

“Varric, really, I was hoping to make a more dramatic entrance,” came Dorian's voice from one of the tents. He appeared shortly after, followed by The Iron Bull.

“Boss!” Bull bellowed, raising his hand in greeting. “Long time!”

Kaitala, beaming, rushed to greet them, and Bull picked her up in a hug in his giant arms, swinging her in a circle. Then as Kaitala hugged Dorian tightly, the rest of them exchanged warm handshakes with Bull. Thom was certain Bull put extra squeeze into theirs, and his hand ached afterward, while Bull grinned nonchalantly down at him.

“Been farming, I hear,” Bull said, as though it were both a question and a statement of Thom's apparently weak grip.

“Bull, darling, you have the biggest dick here, leave Rainier alone,” Dorian said, stepping to their side. “Forgive him, he's been away from my civilized influence too long.” Thom recognized the adoring look Dorian sent Bull's way, and hoped they'd already had a chance to get physically reacquainted. In these close quarters, it would be impossible to not hear them later.

“Mage,” Thom said, gripping Dorian's arm, and then pulling him into a rough hug. “Good to see you.”

Dorian clapped his hand on Thom's back. “Don't get emotional on me, Rainier, these are my good robes.” But his smile was warm and friendly when they separated. “I see you trimmed your beard in anticipation of our meeting. How thoughtful. My regards to whoever taught you how to use a razor.” Thom had missed their easy bickering, though he'd never tell the Tevinter that.

“How'd you know to meet us here?” Kaitala asked, setting her pack down at the entry of one of the tents.

“A cunningly delivered note from the Viscount of Kirkwall led us to our young elven friend there,” he gestured at Malachi, who was hovering near the doorway. “Though it did not say why. I had been looking forward to a hot bath and an actual bed.”

They took turns filling in Dorian and Bull on all that had happened, while they split up the work of settling into their temporary campsite.

Dorian frowned as they finished. “I will set up wards to provide some additional protection from magical searching. Leliana, if you could assist?” She nodded, and they swiftly began making plans, Dorian drawing out items he needed from a gaudily decorated trunk.

“How are the Chargers?” Kaitala asked Bull as they all sat around the fire.

“Stubborn, pushy, and complaining. So: great as always. I left Krem in charge and he said if I didn't return in three months he was going to change the name to Krem's Killers.” Bull shook his head. “He always was shit at names.”

They whiled away the time it took for Dorian to set his wards, Bull regaling them with a recent mission involving a nest of giant spiders and the noises Grim made repeatedly getting a face full of webs. Bull always spun a good story, and by the time Dorian and Leliana returned Thom's cheeks hurt from laughing.

“The spider story?” Dorian asked. When they nodded he sighed, “Warriors,” and disappeared back into the tent.

“I'm a Viscount, thank you very much!” Varric yelled after him.

Kaitala's laughs dissolved into a huge yawn, and Thom stood. He'd forgotten how late it was, here in the unnatural light of the lamps. “Let's get some sleep while we can,” he said, holding out his hand to her. She nodded and let him help her up.

“It will be nice to actually sleep,” she admitted, rubbing the silver ring with her thumb. It was nestled against the simple wooden band Thom had carved and oiled for her as a wedding ring.

“Should we have a watch?” Thom asked Varric.

“Don't worry about that, Malachi's got it for now, and I've got a few others coming in tomorrow that you might know. A certain mercenary company in my employ.”

Kaitala looked shocked. “The Valo-kas? Are they still working for you?”

“They do good work and I pay well,” Varric said. “Shokrakar said Kaariss even wrote a special poem for the occasion.” Kaitala groaned, and Thom couldn't blame her. She'd shown him some of Kaariss' poetry when they were at Skyhold. He hadn't known reading something could hurt you. “Enjoy your rest.”

Kaitala bid them all goodnight and climbed into the tent. Thom eyed Malachi, and tried to squash the distrust that made him scan the elf's pale skin for the mark of Fen'harel. “Good, thank you,” Thom said, forcing himself to sound grateful. Varric would surely know if his own agents were working for the Dread Wolf.

Inside the tent, Kaitala was already lying on her side on a thick, soft pad with a warm blanket pulled up to her chest. Thom could hardly even feel the floor when he laid down on his back on his own pad. “Guess there's a benefit to being Viscount,” he said, feeling his muscles slowly relaxing. “Have to see if we can fit these on the horses when we leave, eh?” When he turned his head to check on Kaitala, she was already asleep, her features neither drawn tight from fear nor unnaturally slack like with the Dreamless. Thom turned on his side to face her and gathered her hand in his. Her long fingers curled lightly around his, and he fell asleep holding her hand, with their breaths mingling between them.

 

* * *

 

“-et her sleep,” Kaitala heard when she groggily opened her eyes. She was alone in their tent, but there were lots of quiet noises outside of people moving, and off to the side one of the horses whickered.

“It's not like we have a full day of activities,” Varric said.

“Speak for yourself,” Dorian piped in, his voice the familiar grumpy tone she remembered from mornings together on the road. He always seemed vaguely angry to see the sun rise. “I want to examine the hand, and see what we can do to dispose of it, if anything.”

“Have you seen it? What does it look like?” Kaitala blinked. That sounded like Cassandra. She rubbed her eyes and stretched, her body languid with the night of good sleep.

“Like her hand, but shriveled,” Dorian said. “And glowing green.”

More muffled noises, what sounded like a dog panting, and then: “I wish we'd been able to find Solas before this.” That sounded like Cullen. Kaitala wondered how long she'd been asleep if her friends had come in already.

“We did try,” Leliana said, sounding annoyed.

“I wasn't blaming you. Just wishing we could have saved her from this.”

After the initial shock of Kaitala's lost hand, and her subsequent disbanding of the Inquisition, her friends had rallied around her while she struggled to figure out how to live with her changed body. Thom had been wildly overprotective at first, until one dinner when he'd been trying to cut her food and she'd yelled at him so loudly he'd dropped the plate into her lap. They'd had a long talk that night, and he'd been better ever since, particularly as time went on and he saw how she managed her life just fine with one hand. Her friends, most of them having left just days after the wedding ceremony, had only seen her struggle, and not the two years since, when she'd found new, and sometimes better, ways to live. She worried they would still only see the struggle now, and not the whole person she was.

Kaitala rubbed the nub of her amputated left arm, feeling the familiar roundness of it. It didn't ache at all today, but the skin was rough and needed lotion. It had only been two years – a small part of her thirty plus years alive – since Solas had taken her forearm and hand, but except for the way she could still sometimes feel her missing limb, having only one had become the normal course of her life. Seeing her amputated hand felt like seeing something entirely alien to herself, even outside of the green glow and vaguely sinister pull of the power.

The others had moved from near the tent and now she could only make out their quiet murmurs and the clink of pans, followed by the heady smell of breakfast tea. Kaitala hurriedly pulled a fresh shirt out of her pack and tugged it on, looking forward to seeing her friends and whatever Varric had cooked up. He'd always taken on meal duties during their travels, much to everyone's delight, including his. She, Thom, and Dorian had all proven to be lousy cooks.

Kaitala opened the flap of the tent, expecting sunlight but finding instead the same burning lamplight from the night before. No windows, then. The sight of Cass and Cullen, and Cullen's mabari, Calenhad, made the day seem brighter anyway.

It was Calenhad who noticed her first. Though she hadn't seen Cullen or Cal since they'd left Skyhold, he clearly remembered her and those bones she'd found for him at the Winter Palace.

The dog rushed over, throwing himself belly up on the ground at her feet, his whole body twisting with each wag of his rump. Kaitala knelt down to scratch him. “Nice to see you, too,” she said.

“Pitiful,” Cullen drawled, coming over. “Great beast acts like no one ever pets him.”

“I can see how ill-used you are,” Kaitala commiserated with Cal, patting his belly once last time before standing. “Putting up with this guy.”

She and Cullen, and then she and Cassandra, exchanged warm hugs. “It's been too long,” Cass said. “Too long for all of you.”

“What, even me?” Varric asked.

“Most of you,” Cass amended to the dwarf's undignified snort. “You must fill me in on everything,” Cass said to Kaitala. “They've told Cullen and I about Solas and the- your hand. But it's been months since the last letter from you. How is Eleanor?”

“Good, she's good. Do we have time now, or...?”

“No plans,” Varric said. “Sparkler's going to start getting hot and heavy with your magic hand, and we're still waiting for Sera and Dagna to show up. Now we get to sit around and annoy each other for at least a day.”

“Lovely,” Thom grumbled.

“I could sing,” Varric offered. “I was thinking of taking up a side career.”

“Maker spare us.”

“Cards it is, then. Cullen, you in?”

“No.”

“So distrustful after all these years? What do you do for fun?”

“I've been training Calenhad on new attack techniques.”

Varric sighed. “Blondie, you need a girlfriend. Or a boyfriend. Whatever.”

Cullen went red and Varric perked up. “Oh ho, does this mean you have someone already? You may as well tell us now, there are too many hours in the day and I'm far too persistent.”

Kaitala went to get tea and breakfast while Cullen stoically avoided Varric's prodding. She paused to kiss Thom good morning, and he smiled warmly at her. “You look well, love.”

“Sleep is an amazing healer.”

“No contact with Solas, then?”

“Nothing. And no attacks while I was asleep?”

Thom shook his head, though he looked distrustfully at Malachi, who was lounging against the wall by the entrance to the warehouse.

“Let him be,” she chided gently. “Not every elf is an agent of Fen'harel.”

“Aye, you're right. But it's hard not to imagine they are when it's only elves that keep attacking us.”

“And how many did we pass just walking the streets of Kirkwall?” He grunted. “You're not going to suspect Sera, are you?”

“ _Sera_? Maker, she'd rather stomp Solas' head to a pulp than do his bidding.”

“How do you know Malachi isn't the same? He's one of Varric's people, after all.” She could see the edge in his eyes soften. “I know how you feel; it's hard not to wait for every elf we see to attack us, but you may as well suspect every Qunari of wanting to take over Thedas. Solas' dream is just that: a dream. There are many elves who understand that destroying the Veil isn't going to suddenly make their lives better. We shouldn't punish innocents for the crimes of a few.”

“You're right,” he said, and the last of the hard-eyed distrust melted away. “How do you manage it?” Thom asked.

“What?”

“Seeing the good in everyone, the potential.” His voice was bright with admiration.

“My father, partly. And it helps that I've usually been on the receiving end of bad assumptions from everyone else. Growing up Vashoth, we were never comfortable anywhere. True Qunari would just as soon kill us as capture us, and everyone else mostly assumed we were dumb ox-men, or that we'd fly into a rage at the slightest opportunity. Being an outsider lets you look in with a different view is all.”

Thom took her hand and pressed a kiss to her palm. “I am the luckiest of men,” he murmured. “Cassandra,” he added, looking past Kaitala.

“I hope I'm not interrupting?”

“Not at all. I've learned my lesson for the day,” he said without rancor. “Besides, I have a certain dwarf to beat at cards. Ladies.” He bowed briefly and joined Varric and the others.

“How are you holding up?” Cassandra asked while they sat and shared tea and breakfast.

“Better than I was. I assume they filled you in?”

“Yes. You do not look as bad as I feared.”

“ _As_ bad?” Kaitala teased.

Her friend's face reddened. “I did not mean- oh, you know what I meant. Always teasing me.”

“You make it so easy.” Kaitala smiled. “How are you? I haven't heard from you in awhile.”

“We've been very busy. There's so much to do it seems I wake and then before I know it night is falling. But our work is progressing well. I believe we will have new Seekers ready very soon. Ones who know the true source and purpose of our work.” Her eyes were focused very far away. “We will restore honor to our calling.”

“I know you will,” Kaitala said.

Cassandra shook her head and smiled ruefully. “My apologies. I cannot seem to eat, talk, or sleep without lapsing into my work. Tell me more about your life! The last I heard you had a good crop of potatoes.”

Kaitala frowned, remembering the last letter she'd sent Cassandra. It had been full of what seemed important updates at the time, and felt like useless vapor now. “Until Thom brought the hand home, nothing worthwhile had happened, honestly.”

“Nothing worthwhile?” Now it was Cassandra who frowned. “Weren't you just starting to get Eleanor comfortable with basic fighting techniques? Didn't you grow enough food to share with a family who'd had a bad fire? Surely those things are worthwhile.”

“They're a fine way to spend your time, but who wants to read about that?”

“I do!” Cassandra said. “The details of your life the last two years have been a source of great peace to me. To know that after everything you had been through, everything that lurked in the future, you had been able to find something simple and good to live for gave me the hope to keep at my work. You have always believed Solas would be defeated, and you showed it by continuing to _live_. I cannot tell you how much I admired that, how much hope it gave me.”

Kaitala blinked. She glanced at Thom, who was laughing with Varric and Bull as they played cards; while a few feet away Cullen conversed with Leliana as she scratched Calenhad's huge head. The last time they had all been together had been just after she decided to disband the Inquisition. They'd all returned to Skyhold briefly, some to help with the process, others to gather items and say proper goodbyes. They'd still laughed then, but it had been quieter, more restrained. The threat of Solas' plan, the newness of Kaitala's lost hand, loomed large over every choice they made and it had all seemed impossible then. She and Thom had decided to marry before they all split up again, and she realized now it was at that ceremony that she had felt the shifting ground steady again under her feet. Their commitment to each other had been equally a commitment to the future, a future where Solas would not win.

“I see I have made my point,” Cassandra said, her voice quiet, but pleased. “Now, tell me: how were the potatoes?”

 

* * *

 

Malachi was replaced shortly after Kaitala woke by a tall, heavily scarred Qunari woman who bellowed “ADAAR!” as soon as she stepped into the warehouse. She and Kaitala clasped each other's foreams for a long time, and talked of people Thom had heard about but never met: Kaitala's old mercenary company, the Valo-Kas.

“Where are the others?” Kaitala asked.

“Guarding the other entrances to this area. Gotta keep the Inquisitor safe, after all.”

“Ex-Inquistor.”

“All right, fancy pants. The _Ex_ -Inquisitor. We'll talk more later, I'm on the clock.” Shokrakar gave Bull a long, lascivious up-and-down. “And you'll introduce me to big and horny over there.”

Bull's laugh was loud and pleased. “Oh I like her,” he rumbled.

They whiled away the rest of the quiet morning with easy conversation and a re-discovering of how they all worked together as a group. The only grey cloud was Dorian, who huddled off to the side with the box with the hand and his enormous chest of books, muttering to himself as he flipped through them, his face getting darker with each one.

Varric was cooking lunch with Cassandra's help and Thom was about to go pull Dorian from his reading for a bit when there was a complicated knock at the locked door of the warehouse. They all looked to Varric, who nodded at Shokrakar to open the door. A dwarven woman entered and whispered quietly to her, who gestured to Varric to join them.

Thom and the others watched their hurried, intense conversation, but it was pitched too low to hear. Varric shook the other dwarf's hand before she left, and when he returned to the campfire there was fear in his eyes.

“Seems Solas' people are already here in Kirkwall. They found your house sooner than I'd anticipated.”

“Are Neidre and the others okay?” Kaitala asked.

“Mostly, yes. They killed one of my guards, but the other escaped, and I'd asked everyone else to leave until things blew over anyway. Good thing, it turns out. The elves ransacked the place looking for you, and the hand. And then an hour after they left, a few Qunari stopped by to finish things off.”

“Qunari? Are they working for Solas now?” Thom asked.

“No way.” That was The Iron Bull. “That has to be the Ben-Hassrath. What with the Qunari's likely invasion, they'd have people planted in all the big cities to keep an eye out. It's made life as a Qunari mercenary the last year even more difficult than before.”

Kaitala nodded knowingly. “So now we have Solas _and_ the Qunari after us.”

“Likely the Qunari just want to know what the hell is going on. Though I'm sure they'd love to have that hand of yours if they thought they could use it to their advantage. The full extent of Solas' plan is known by just us, maybe a few of his elvish friends, unless Varric or Leliana have spread it around to their people.”

“Of course not,” Leliana said in time with Varric's “Never.”

“Good. Then we still have that on our side. But knowledge isn't going to do us much good if they all find us here. Best we can hope for is pitting the elves against the Ben-Hassrath while we barely escape with our lives.”

“Couldn't we tell them Solas' plan to get them on our side?” Kaitala asked.

“If they stopped trying to kill us long enough to listen, which is a big if given our last encounter with them, then, maybe. Or they may just decide to handle it themselves and kill us anyway. Or they may decide Fen'harel is on to something and try to work a deal with him.”

“You can't deal with the world being torn apart,” Thom said.

The Iron Bull shrugged. “You don't know the Qunari.”

“It will take them at least a day to find this place,” Varric said. “We shouldn't be here when they do. We'll have to leave without Sera and Dagna, though.”

“Can you get a message to them?” Thom asked. He worried they'd be caught flat-footed by the chaos they were leaving behind.

“They'll be safe. I can even tell them where to find us, if I had any idea where we were going.” Varric looked at Dorian. “What do you say, Sparkler? Any clues?”

Dorian carefully closed the book he'd been reading. “I have a thought, yes. But you won't like it.”

“It's got to be better than staying here and fighting elves and angry Qunari,” Thom said.

“Wait until you hear my plan – that may be an acceptable alternative,” Dorian said, smiling ruefully. “I have a collection of ancient Elvish books that I've been looking at, that talk about where the sky was first held back. The Veil.”

“You have ancient Elvish books?” Leliana asked.

“It's not like I found them under my bed. I _have_ been researching the last two years in-between trying to re-make Tevinter, fighting off Venatori, and keeping up my astonishing good looks.”

“Don't forget sex with your boyfriend,” Bull piped in.

“It turns out,” Dorian said, ignoring him, “that the Elvish name for Skyhold is _Tarasyl'an te'las_.” Dorian frowned as he tripped over the Elvish name and Thom saw Malachi wince in the background at the rough pronunciation. “It means 'the place where the sky was held back.' And given that used to be Solas' castle-”

“That has to be where he created the Veil. You think he's going to destroy it there, too?” Kaitala said.

“Yes. And I think we should take the fight to him.”

“You're right, that's a terrible idea,” Cullen said.

“Gotta agree with the Commander. That's the worst idea you've ever had, _kadan_ , and that includes the jelly party.”

“The jelly party would have worked if we'd told everyone to arrive naked. But I don't believe we have any other choice here. I can't see a way to destroy the hand – I was hoping Dagna would have thoughts on that one – and Solas clearly has enough followers that we won't be able to hide a one-armed Qunari woman forever. I believe you can use the hand to stop him.”

Kaitala was frowning. “How? It felt like it was trying to burn me up last time I just touched it.”

“Ah. You have discovered the flaw in my otherwise foolproof plan.”

“We can't risk it,” Thom said. “Let's hide somewhere he won't expect for awhile, like the mountains, or even the Arlathan Forest. We'll get Dagna with us and you two can figure out a way to destroy that thing that won't also blow everyone up.”

“Even if it can be done – and these books plus our past experience suggests it cannot – there is the chance that releasing that energy, even safely, may also be something Solas can use in his ritual. We could try spreading the energy out to multiple items, but I believe the Anchor really was just that: something tied at a crucial moment to a single soul. Kaitala's. Once they were bound together, I don't believe they could ever be permanently separated.”

“Which is why even Solas couldn't destroy it back at the Elven ruins.”

“I don't think he wanted to destroy it at all,” Dorian said. “He probably took it with him to use.”

Kaitala grimaced. Thom didn't blame her; the thought of someone taking a _piece_ of him was unnerving.

“How did Sera end up with the hand, then?” Cassandra asked. “If Solas wanted it, why would he let it go?”

“He must have done it on purpose,” Leliana said. Her voice was dark. “He wanted Lady Adaar to activate it because he could not.”

“Then we definitely should hide,” Thom said. “Let's not play into his damned plans any more.”

“I'm with Rainier on this one,” Bull said. “I'll be happy to take out every last elf Solas sends our way until we can come up with a better plan.”

Dorian shook his head angrily. “How will you hide from someone who controls the Eluvians? It would be simple for him to gather an army to attack us. We can't fight an army.”

“We can't fight a god, either,” Thom said.

“He's not technically a god.”

“Close enough. You saw what he did to those Qunari in the Eluvians. And that was two years ago. Who knows what he's picked up since then?”

Dorian spread his hands out helplessly. “I see no other options except running for the rest of your life, which will surely be shorter than Solas', at which point he'll still end up with the hand. Our only option is to try to catch him off-guard by a frontal assault. I believe he hasn't come for you himself, Kaitala, because he cannot. If Leliana is right about the hand coming from him, then that means he's ready to pull down the Veil. Perhaps once he felt the hand activate he started the ritual, which would mean he's vulnerable.” Dorian turned to Kaitala. “I have spent all the days since you contacted me trying to find any other action. There is no other way.”

“A lot of that going around,” Kaitala murmured.

Thom moved to her side. “What do you want to do?” he quietly asked her.

“Go home,” she said with a brief smile. Thom huffed a small laugh. “Dorian is right. We have to try to stop Solas.”

Thom felt fear wrap around his throat. “Kaitala-”

“I can't spend the rest of my life running,” she said, her voice firm, threaded through with anger. “I want this done, whatever it takes. Besides, it's a long trip from here to Skyhold. Dagna will catch up with us by then, and we can send a message to Vivienne, too. She'll want to know if the forces at Skyhold are in danger, if Solas hasn't harmed them already. We'll find another way.” Her eyes undercut her confident words.

He wouldn't add his doubt to the pile. “As you say, my lady.”

 

* * *

 

The process of hurriedly packing up camp had become depressingly familiar. Even when they were on the road from Denerim to Kirkwall, they never lingered in the mornings, alert to the constant possibility of attack. Kaitala did have to laugh as Thom manhandled the admittedly comfortable sleeping mats into a size small enough to be portable.

Once they were ready to go, their horses packed and stepping nervously at the tension in the air, Varric turned to the group.

“The docks aren't too far from here, but I think we should split up.” He held up a hand to stall their protests. “Solas' people know you're with me for sure, so if I split from you, that may distract or at least separate some of his people. And Solas probably doesn't know about the others who've joined us, so if any spies are attached to you, and it's just you and Rainier, we won't tip that part of our hand, either.”

“Good idea,” Kaitala said. “Which way do we go?”

“Malachi will go with you to show you the way. He's one of my best, and having an elf with you may give some of Solas' people pause. I'll go with Leliana, since they may know she's here anyway. The rest of you split up and Shokrakar will dedicate one of her team to go with you.”

The Qunari mercenary sidled up to Bull. “At your service,” she growled low. Kaitala smothered a grin. Shokrakar's exploits were legendary in the Valo-Kas. She never left a town without at least three new conquests, often all at once. Kaariss was working on an epic poem that devoted one line to each of her partners; Kaitala wasn't sure where he was keeping the pages he'd written, but when she'd last seen it years ago it had been the nearly the size of a book, and all in cramped, tiny writing.

Dorian stepped to Bull's other side and lifted one elegant brow. “We appreciate the help.”

Shokrakar looked the mage up and down and smiled. “I'll take both of you.”

Cassandra rolled her eyes and made the loud noise of disgust that Kaitala had missed. “Can we please get moving?” she said.

“Cass, you go with Cullen and Cal. Seems like Shokrakar has Bull and Dorian in hand.” Kaitala turned to the other Qunari. “Who else do you have?”

“Mostly new people that came onboard after you becoming Inquisitor suddenly made us respectable.” She grinned, showing all her teeth. “But Kaariss personally asked to be assigned to help you, so he's waiting outside for his chance.”

“Don't let him read you his poetry,” she murmured to Cass. Dorian's trunk was being pulled in a small cart attached to Bull's giant horse, but otherwise they'd managed to get all their supplies onto their own mounts. “What about food?” Kaitala asked Varric.

“No time to get extra together now. We'll pick some up in Jader.”

“Mother Giselle has gone back to the Chantry there,” Leliana said. “We can ask for her support.”

“Everybody knows the ship we're heading to?” Kaitala said.

“The _Marielle_ ,” Varric said. Next to her, Cassandra gasped and Varric smiled. “Her story did pay for it.” He motioned to Leliana. “We'll go back through the hallway. Take the rest of them through the other door,” he told Shokrakar. “See you all onboard.”

Shokrakar led the way out of the warehouse through a door Kaitala hadn't noticed before, everyone leading their horses, and back into the weaving alleys of Lowtown. Kaitala blinked hard against the bright sunlight. Malachi emerged from the shadows to the left of them, and Kaariss from the right. The alley they were in was otherwise empty.

“ _Shanedan_ Kaitala!” the man said. He was human, but had been Viddathari and was Tal-Vashoth now. He bowed grandiosely before her. “An honor as always, Inquisitor.”

“ _Ex_ -Inquisitor,” Shokrakar said in a prim voice.

Kaitala rolled her eyes. “It's good to see you, Kaariss. Keeping well?”

“My breath continues to roll from me / I spend my days capturing all I see,” he answered in rhyme. Behind her she heard Thom cough.

“That's great,” Kaitala said, and then hurried on to stall any further extemporaneous poetry. “You'll be leading Cassandra and Cullen to Varric's ship. We should probably go first, in case there's anyone watching. They'll follow us and leave the rest of you alone. Dorian, you have the box?”

He patted the blanket-covered lump behind his saddle. “Safe and sound, my dear.”

“Okay then.” Kaitala scanned each of their faces, reminded herself the docks were close and no one knew they were here. “Let's go.”

“Be careful,” Cassandra said.

Malachi silently started down the alley, and Kaitala gently tugged on Anaan's reins and followed, Thom close behind.

Though she could see the tips of the tallest ships over the top of the buildings, Malachi seemed to lead them away from the dock down side streets, and she squashed the sudden sharp worry that maybe he was on Solas' side. They passed a handful of Lowtown's denizens, most of them hurrying past with downcast eyes. One, a short human woman, gave Kaitala a disgusted look but didn't say anything at least.

Malachi paused at the end of the small street they were on, which emptied into a much busier road. “Stay close,” he said. “We'll take this main road most of the way, but the Viscount's ship is at one of the quieter docks, and if they attack, that will be where they do it. Try to blend in.”

“Have you seen anyone?” Thom asked.

“Not yet. Stay close,” he repeated, and slid out into the flow of traffic.

She and Thom struggled not to lose the slender elf in the sudden rush of people, but Kaitala used her size to her advantage to push her way closer to Malachi, knowing Thom would follow. She hunched her shoulders to draw herself down and in, in the way she had as a child when she awkwardly towered over all the non-Qunari children in town. Her mother had hated that she'd done that, but then her mother had hated many things about their life there. Kaitala suspected she hated being Tal-Vashoth, but loved Kaitala's father too much to go back. It was her mother's sharp reprimands that had taught Kaitala to stand tall, her mother's pride that had taught her to fight, and for that she was grateful.

They were still on the busy street when Kaitala sensed more than saw someone moving closer to them. She hardly had time to look before Malachi had leapt in front of her, and there was the sharp ring of steel on steel. Kaitala saw an elven woman pressed up against him, grimacing. Their group had stopped in the street, but the people and horses moved smoothly around them, only grumbling at the inconvenience.

Thom started to pull his sword and Malachi shoved the woman away. “Go,” the elf hissed. “Third street on your right, all the way to the end.” The elvish woman started to disappear and he grabbed her arm, yanking her back. “Go!” he shouted to them as she swung her dagger around to try to cut herself free.

They both hesitated for a moment, and then Kaitala saw another elf pushing his way through the crowd, so she prodded Thom's arm with her left one, and then hurriedly tugged Anaan down the street, following Malachi's directions.

“Do you think he'll be all right?” Thom asked when they paused for a moment at the corner. She couldn't see any of the elves they'd left behind.

“I hope so.”

They hurried, nearly running, down the long, packed dirt road they were on, until they burst out onto a small, secluded dock. All of the others were already there, and they turned in surprise.

“Are you all right?” Cass asked, rushing forward.

“We are,” Thom said, panting slightly. “But your man Malachi needs help,” he said to Varric.

“Where did you leave him?” Varric asked.

“He stopped an elf from getting to Kaitala back down that big street, about three streets north of where they meet. There was another elf joining in when we left.”

Varric nodded at Shokrakar.

The Qunari woman unsheathed a nasty looking dagger. “Sorry to cut our goodbye short,” she said, not looking sorry at all as she hurried off. Kaariss looked more contrite, but only slightly, as he bowed low again and pulled the bow from his back.

Kaitala watched them go, like watching her past run away. She hadn't expected to see the Valo-Kas again, and definitely had not expected to miss working with them. Shokrakar had been a steadfast and inspiring leader, and she'd loaded her company with other Vashoth and Tal-Vashoth. Kaitala's years with the Valo-Kas had been simple, regimented, and full with companionship. It was one of the only places Kaitala had ever truly felt she belonged.

“She seems like she can take care of herself and twenty others,” Thom said next to her.

She looked down at Thom, who was gazing down the street with a longing that matched her own. This was one of the other places she felt she belonged: side-by-side with Thom, facing whatever challenge came next.

He looked up at her, gave her a puzzled smile. “What is it, love?”

“I'll tell you later,” she said. She kissed him quickly and then turned to the group. “We have a ship to board.”

 

* * *

 


	7. Chapter 7

The _Marielle_ was a big ship, but it was still crowded with all of them and their horses onboard. The cabins were tight, even more so for Kaitala and Bull, and everyone was relieved to see Jader's docks fast approaching on the second day. Where Kirkwall had been dark and angular and brooding, Jader was all gleaming spires and elegant arches, even at the docks. The citizens of Jader believed Andraste was born here, regardless of what anyone else claimed, and it was a point of pride to keep the city looking clean on the surface. Thom had patrolled the Dales for much of his time with the Orlesian Imperial Army, and he was familiar with the real Jader hiding underneath the sparkling stones.

Once the ship was securely tied, Thom led them down the ramp, each person guiding their nervous mount, with Bull and the wagon bringing up the rear. They walked their horses through the docks, ignoring the cries to buy fresh fish or offers to lead the newcomers anywhere they wanted in the city, including into “private rooms.” They also ignored the muttered “Qunari bastards” and “filthy ox-men,” but every time Thom glanced back at Kaitala and Bull, the lines of their mouths were harder and thinner.

The city had changed some since he'd last been here, but he found the tavern he was looking for after only two wrong turns. They were staying as far from Jader's alienage as they could, just in case. The empire had treated Jader's elves and the Ferelden refugees especially poorly during the Blight, and though Mother Giselle had stepped in to help them, Leliana advised them that resentment was still high. It was, she said, an area ripe for Solas to find support.

Leliana arranged for four rooms for them to share while Thom handled the stabling of their mounts and the mabari, who wasn't allowed in the inn. By the time he had bargained the price down to only half his current coin and returned to the dining room, everyone else was drinking at a single large table.

Kaitala had saved him a spot, and an ale, and he sat down next to her with a stifled groan. His body was stiff from the awkward and spare beds on the ship and the lack of movement while onboard. Maker's balls, he hated getting old.

“What's the plan, then?” he asked after he'd downed half his ale.

“I have sent word to Mother Giselle, requesting an audience with her at the Chantry,” Leliana said. “I told her Cassandra had an urgent message from the Seekers.” Cassandra looked affronted at the lie. “It was the safest way to get her to meet quickly with us. And it is not technically false. I haven't heard back, but we should be prepared to see her first thing tomorrow morning.”

“Does that mean I can get some sleep in an actual bed tonight?” Bull asked, his voice unusually grumpy. “That ship was a nightmare.”

“It wasn't built for someone of your height,” Varric mused, his voice calm. “Or width. Or general muscle-y-ness.”

Bull snorted. “The price I pay for being The Iron Bull, I guess.”

“You're not the only one that paid it,” Dorian muttered. He looked, for Dorian, exceptionally unkempt, and it made Thom feel oddly better that he wasn't the only one who'd had trouble sleeping. Kaitala hadn't even bothered with the bed and had slept on the floor of their cabin.

They drank quietly for several minutes, each falling deeper into the somber mood that had been threatening since Kaitala had agreed to Dorian's plan. Whenever the door opened, they all looked up, and each visitor halted at the door looking guilty every time. None of the visitors were messengers from Giselle, or elvish. Thom realized he hadn't seen a single elf since they'd docked, which bode ill.

“This is ridiculous,” Varric finally said, after a harried, dark-skinned dwarf had glared back at them and spit before hurrying to the bar. “Can't we at least take turns being anxious and miserable?”

“I'll take first misery watch,” Thom said, eliciting a laugh. After that, they started chatting back and forth, and had food brought to the table, and the dark tension retreated to the edges. He and Leliana engaged in a discussion of the merits and cons of the different Orlesian wines stacked behind the bar, while he caught snippets of the others' conversations. Cullen and Dorian talked Cullen's work with the Lyrium-addicted, while Bull and Kaitala shared, from what he heard, stories about being big and horned in a world built for humans. “Hats!” Bull roared in a mystified voice at one point. In the corner, Cassandra and Varric leaned towards each other, talking in quiet tones, and Cassandra's dry laugh occasionally danced under what everyone else was saying.

Eventually, Giselle's messenger showed up, asking them to meet with her at the Chantry just after dawn. Once she'd left, Thom leaned back in his chair and stretched his arms over his head. Everyone else seemed willing to go another hour, but he could hardly wait to get to his bed for sleep. He watched Kaitala for a minute, the bright flash of her smile, the long span of her fingers, the way her shirt pulled tight over her broad shoulders when she leaned forward to talk animatedly about something. _Or perhaps other things first_ , Thom thought. Even now, with the Dread Wolf pacing at their doorstep, Thom hungered for her. He'd spent his time as Blackwall mostly abstinent and it hadn't bothered him, but this was just one more key Kaitala possessed to unlock every part of him. He was half-hard already just from looking at her.

“What do you think?” He realized suddenly she was talking to him, and he dropped his hands into his lap.

“About what, love?”

“About getting some sleep now,” she said. “I'm exhausted.” She looked nothing of the sort. He wondered if she'd read his own tiredness, or his lust.

Either way, he was grateful. “I think that sounds wise.”

That seemed to cue everyone into action, and Bull and Dorian bid their goodnight as well. Cassandra and Varric seemed intent to stay downstairs longer, but Leliana and Cullen walked upstairs with him and Kaitala and disappeared into their respective rooms.

Thom held the door to their room for Kaitala, and then closed and locked it behind him. They both scanned the small area quickly for traps or differences, but Thom found nothing out of place. The box had been left with Bull and Dorian, for which Thom could only thank them.

Kaitala sat on the bed, just big enough for the two of them and covered with what looked like a scratchy wool blanket, and began working at her boots. “Do you think there's something going on between Cass and Varric?” she asked.

“Cassandra and _Varric_? You mean besides their bizarre obsession with bad novels?”

“They didn't seem extra close this evening? Or on the ship?”

Thom considered it as he removed his own boots, thought of the way Varric had walked the length of the ship and back again talking just to Cassandra, the way she'd laughed at whatever he was saying this evening. “Varric and _Cassandra_?” he wondered out loud.

Kaitala laughed, finally tugging her boots off. “I wonder how long it's been happening? I bet he reads all the good parts of his books to her in bed.”

“And by the good parts you mean-”

“The sex scenes, obviously.” She grinned slyly at him. “Those are the parts I read.”

Thom lifted both his brows. “How have I not heard this before?” he asked, stepping softly towards her.

“I was saving it for when we were old and needed extra help,” she said in a voice so mischievous it made his heart flip over in his chest.

“I doubt I'll ever need that with you around. Look,” he gestured below his waist, “all I have to do is look at you and I can't control myself, like some bloody teenager.”

“Don't just stand there then,” she said, holding her arms out, “come ravish me.”

He didn't need any other invitation. Thom surged forward and pressed her into the bed, kissing her deeply. The blanket was as scratchy as it looked, but he didn't care. She gripped his hip with her long, strong fingers, the blunt end of her left arm pushing against his side when she wrapped herself around him. He lingered at her mouth, enjoying the heat, her eager tongue, the hitch of her breathing, the way she molded her body against his when he shifted even a little. She tasted of ale. She smelled of dirt and spices and herself, a sweet and musky mix that lingered even when she was gone. He missed that scent when they were apart.

He broke the kiss and lifted his head up enough to look down at her, saw her green eyes dark with wanting. “I never properly apologized to you before,” he said, his voice rough.

Kaitala blinked, and the haze turned to confusion. “For what?”

“For being an ass,” he said.

“Which time?” she asked archly.

Thom laughed, loud, and then kissed her tenderly. “You're ruining a perfectly good apology,” he said, smiling. “But I meant when you weren't sleeping.”

“Apology accepted, but not needed.”

“Maker help me, I don't deserve you.”

“Aren't we past that now?” She pressed her hips against his, sending heat shooting through him.

“Never,” he said. “For all that I've done-”

She interrupted him with a kiss. “I know what you've done,” she said quietly. “I know who you are, Thom Rainier.” The name settled heavy between them. He had stopped hating himself when he heard it from her lips. “I know what you carry, how you bear it, the good that you've made of it. And that is why I know I could want for nothing more than you. Except to be done with what's ahead of us.”

“Aye, me too. But that's for tomorrow.” He brought her left arm up and kissed the end with gentle lips, and then kissed up her arm, to her neck, moving with slow deliberateness, until he pressed his mouth to the hollow of her throat and felt her heartbeat racing. “Let me help you forget that, for tonight.”

They paused to both remove her clothes, his fingers lingering on the span of her muscled belly when he helped her with her breeches. Then he worked his own breeches off while she pulled off her shirt, and he paused to watch her in the lamp light. He loved looking at her: the hints of gray under the earth-brown of her skin, her horns with their deadly points that she always managed to keep under control, her full lips, even the scars that painted her history on her body. He reached out to touch one now, a thin line along her right shoulder, that she'd gotten fighting Corypheus. He wondered how many more they'd both get in the coming days.

“I don't mind them,” she said, turning her head to kiss his hand.

“I don't either. But you've enough.”

“Seems like there's some places free.”

“Kaitala.” He cupped her cheek. “Are you sure about taking the fight to Solas?”

“No. And yes. I trust Dorian's done all he could. I can't spend the rest of my life – our lives – running. It may not have to be a fight at all.”

“What do you mean?”

“Solas was my friend,” she said simply, as though that it explained everything.

“That didn't stop him from starting the process. From taking your hand and hoarding it until he could.”

“There may still be that connection inside him,” she insisted. “When I saw him in my dream, he was powerful and scary, but there was still something...mortal about him. The Solas that we traveled with. He's not all Fen'Harel, not yet.”

“Kaitala-”

“Why are we discussing this when we're both naked? Seems like a waste of our time together.” She smiled, but it didn't hide the desperate plea. Or the unsaid conclusion: that time like this may never come again.

Thom swallowed hard on the love and fear and nerves that threatened to overpower him. “Never let it be said I ignored a gorgeous naked woman in my bed,” he said gruffly.

He pulled her down on the bed next to him, and tried to lose his worries in kissing her. She reached down and stroked his cock, which quivered eagerly at her touch. Thom stilled her hand, wanting to take their time. If this was going to be it - _only until we're done with Solas_ he promised himself – he wouldn't rush things.

But still their kisses got harder, more urgent, teeth and tongues clashing as desire burned through him and Kaitala responded. He broke off, breathing hard, and then nipped and sucked at the corded muscles of her neck, biting her shoulder while she gripped his ass so hard he was sure he'd have bruises. He moved against her, needing the friction of his cock rubbing against her wiry pubic hair and the bone underneath. It was hard, and hurt, and he groaned low from the spasm of pleasure it set off in him. He was suddenly wild with wanting her, and he lifted up enough to get at her nipples, biting them ungently. She moaned and cried out, but he knew it to be desire as she pressed her chest further towards him for more. Her fingernails went sharp into his back, scratching a line he'd relish in the morning

Thom did ravish her, as she had asked, leaving the indentation of his teeth on her thigh, the red ghost of his fingers on her side. He wanted to leave his history on her as much as Corypheus had, or Solas might, wanted her to write herself all over him, too, that anyone looking at him would know he was hers. He tugged her onto all fours and gripped the base of one of her horns as he slid into her and they both shuddered with it. Bending over her, sweaty skin to skin, he tugged her head back to bare her throat for him to feast on and he felt her moan with his lips. Her fingers dug into the blanket.

She surged up and wrestled him onto his back with the same ferocity she used in battle, and the air whooshed out of him when he hit the mattress. Then she slid onto his cock and the guttural sound he made startled even him. Kaitala pinned him down with her weight and her strength; he wasn't sure he could move her off and he had no intention of trying.

When they'd visited Markham after the wedding, a man he'd known as a boy had caught him out and dragged him to the tavern one night. The man had then tried to ply Thom with ale and ask stupid questions about Kaitala and what it was like to be with a woman bigger than he was. Thom had barely stopped himself from punching the other man, mostly by begging off early. He wished he could go back now and instead explain what it was like to have the woman you love holding you down and fucking you with abandon.

Thom gripped her breasts while she rode him hard, her ass slapping against his thighs as she cried his name and her hand pushed and clawed at his chest, tugging on the hair there with every ferocious slide of her body. He felt himself near his end, and he grit his teeth, struggling to hold on, to stretch the heat and fire and pleasure out as long as they both could take it, but she cried out and clenched hard around him, her knees digging into his sides, and his voice joined hers as he shot over the edge, lifting them both to the dark ceiling. Kaitala collapsed on his chest a moment later while he jerked reflexively a few times and then stilled after a final shuddering moan escaped him.

Their chests were both heaving and sweaty, and when she slid off to his side the sudden rush of cool air made him shiver.

“Whew,” she said. He would agree, but he wasn't sure he could move yet. “Whew,” she repeated.

“Mm,” he agreed.

“I thought I was too tired for that.”

“Danger makes the heart grow fonder?” he mused aloud, after taking a few more sustaining breaths.

She laughed, and tenderly kissed his temple. “I don't know, I was pretty fond of you already.”

“Whatever the reason, it's probably best we don't do that often. Might kill me.” Kaitala laughed again, and the sound of it soothed him. He yawned, his jaw cracking. “If you have no more need of me, my lady, I think I'll pass out.”

Kaitala's low laugh, warm and bright in the dim room, was the last sound he heard before he fell asleep.

 

* * *

 

“There you are.”

Thom stirred in his sleep, frowned at the suffocating darkness. The voice sounded familiar, but he couldn't place it.

“Blackwall,” it said, and suddenly Thom was standing at the hilltop where Gordon Blackwall had died. Thom's heart pounded. Solas.

“No,” he said, or dreamed he said, to the empty air. “Thom Rainier.” Then, there Solas was, clad in the same armor the Sentinel Elves had been wearing, his features as distant and alien as the moon. The scenery shifted, and they were back in the forest where Thom and his men had ambushed Callier and his family. Thom's stomach turned over. It was the one spot to which he had purposefully never returned. He swallowed down bile. “What do you want, you bastard?”

“I cannot reach Kaitala anymore, why is that?” Thom thought of the ring and Solas smiled without joy. “I see,” he said.

Cursing himself for a fool, distracted by the forest that he'd had nightmares about for years, Thom tried to think himself awake.

Solas lifted one thin brow. “Remarkable that a woman like her would love someone like you.”

Thom focused on the ground, the rain-wet leaves that clustered at his feet, and tried to push Solas and the screams of women and children out of his head.

“You cannot best me, Blackwall.”

“Thom Rainier,” he ground out, thinking about Kaitala by the fireplace in their home, sharing a meal with her, a bed.

“You've embraced the murderer you are, then. Pulling the Veil down will be the least people like you deserve.”

He thought of Kaitala showing Eleanor how to hold a sword, thought of her nervously sitting on the Inquisitor's throne for the first time, thought of her face when she granted him freedom and a second chance. “Yes,” he said, looking at Solas. “But she doesn't deserve that. Innocent children – elvish children – don't deserve that.”

“ _Elvish_ children?” Solas spit out, his sudden rage terrifying. “I do this for them! Are they better off living in alienages? Hiding in the forest with the mark of slaves on their faces, hoping some _human_ ,” the venom in his voice was overpowering, “won't slaughter them?”

“So killing them all is your answer? You're too stupid to be a god.”

Solas took a step towards him, and Thom suddenly understood why he was called the Dread Wolf. “I will enjoy killing you first, and slowly,” he growled, “when the time comes. Now, show me where you are.”

Thom thought frantically of the warehouse in Kirkwall and then they were there. Solas' eyes narrowed. “My people have been here already. You are not here.”

Thom kept thinking of it, remembering every detail down to the horseshit on the floor.

“You have the mental fortitude of a fly,” Solas said. “I can wait.”

The warehouse filled with their tents, the horses, their friends.

“You've called in help,” he said, and Thom cursed again. He'd forgotten Solas didn't know who was with them yet. “And yet you are still the most weak-minded of them all,” Solas said on a laugh.

“I'm going to rip your heart out of your chest,” Thom spit between his gritted teeth. He imagined that in vivid detail, but the warehouse only wavered and then reformed around them. Pity.

“Remember, Blackwall, I have friends in the Fade. I know your greatest fear.”

Thom thought of the tombstones they'd stumbled on when Kaitala had accidentally pulled them all into the Fade at Adamant.

 _Himself_ it had said on his.

Then Solas was standing next to him, and they were back in the forest but this time Callier's carriage and the dead bodies of he and his retinue were strewn around. Thom stared into the lifeless eyes of one of the children and fought back the wave of dizzy anguish that swamped him. “You are right to fear yourself,” Solas whispered. “What will she think, when I show her this?”

Thom lifted his gaze to the elf. “You think she doesn't know?” he asked, feeling calm certainty flooding through him, chasing down the fear and regret. The faintest hint of confusion eclipsed Solas' pale face. “You _are_ an idiot,” he said. “And you don't understand her at all.”

Then he was suddenly lying in bed on top of a scratchy wool blanket, with Kaitala gripping his finger, which now had Varric's magic ring on it.

 

* * *

 


	8. Chapter 8

The sky was just getting light, so they woke everyone else up to avoid Solas trying to find them, and Thom filled them in on the general idea of what had happened while he picked at breakfast.

“Got any more rings?” he asked Varric once he'd done.

“Sorry, fresh out of magic no-dream rings.”

“I may be able to come up with a protective spell,” Dorian said from behind a giant mug of steaming coffee. He had been snappish and downright aggressive until the serving girl had placed it in his hands. “I had started looking into that as well after you contacted me. It will require us to all be in tight quarters at night, though.”

“Get working on it. We'll deal with whatever we need to do after you figure it out,” Kaitala said. “You should stay here with Bull and the others while Leliana, Cassandra, and I stop in to see Mother Giselle.”

“Are you sure we should separate?” Thom asked. “What if Solas got something from me? The streets have more odds for danger than anywhere else.”

“It doesn't sound like he did, unless there was something else?” Kaitala asked. Thom swallowed, but shook his head no. “Then we'll be all right. Sera and Dagna should be here soon – have you heard anything from Kirkwall, Varric? Anything about Malachi?”

“Not yet, but I'm expecting a message later this morning. I can hang around here with Dorian and one of you sword-y types while the rest of you go. I gotta agree with Hero, it's more dangerous to go out there than stay here. You should stack things on your side.”

Kaitala frowned, but she glanced at their group, and Thom saw her calculating. “It's a fair point. Okay, Cullen and Thom, you come with us, too. Bull can stay here and help keep an eye out.”

“Aye-aye, boss.”

“It's dawn, we should get going.”

“Dawn,” Dorian said the word like he was looking at a dead rat. Then he cursed long and loud in Tevene while Bull stared at him and then burst out laughing.

“You've been learning from Krem, haven't you _kadan_?”

Kaitala stood, pushing her chair back from the table. “You'll have to teach me some good Tevinter curses later, Dorian. I don't know what they mean, but they sound great.” The mage grunted and focused on his coffee.

The group gathered themselves, bid Varric, Dorian, and Bull goodbye, and headed out into the cool, clear morning. Thom was glad to see the sun already starting to burn away the mist. Their group walked quick and quiet to the Chantry, all of them keeping their eyes out for sudden attack, but they arrived without incident.

The Jader Chantry was huge, and old, but there were always novices out scrubbing the stones and they shone from top to bottom in the early morning light. Thom had stumbled through here one night, just a few days after Callier. He'd stood at the door to the Chantry for hours, willing himself to go inside and do what must be done, too afraid to actually do it, before running again. He felt that same weak cowardice like an echo now, and he forced his way ahead to push the Chantry doors open. The air inside was warm, scented with incense, and welcoming.

Mother Giselle waited for them inside, and she and Kaitala exchanged a warm clasp of hands, before she turned and bowed to the rest of them. “Welcome,” she said in her melodious tones. “The Jader Chantry is honored to have you here.”

Giselle led them to a row of benches, where she and Kaitala arranged themselves and the others hovered nearby. He saw Cullen keeping a close eye on the door, so Thom let his gaze roam the inside, watching for anything suspicious. The only other person in the huge room was a novice carefully cleaning the stained glass windows.

“I did not expect to see you, Lady Adaar. This is not a message from the Seekers, then.”

“We were trying to lay low. We need help. Information. What's happened to all the elves in Jader?”

Giselle sighed, shook her head. “I do not know. Over the last two years they have slowly disappeared from all over. We thought perhaps they were heading to the forests around Halamshiral, but there have been no reports of extra elves there, and in fact they, too, have seen their elves mysteriously disappear in the night. Our alienage is nearly empty. The elves that remain stay there, afraid to go into the city for reasons they will not share with me. I bring them food, and Andraste's light.”

“Is it possible they're heading to the Frostback Mountains?”

“I suppose they could be. But why would they? There is nothing there for them.”

Kaitala glanced at their group before saying, “I believe they're headed to Skyhold.”

“Skyhold? But Divine Vivienne's forces are there. What could they hope to achieve?”

“Solas is calling them. He plans to destroy the Veil, to make the world over for the ancient elves again.”

Giselle gripped her hands together in her lap. “That cannot be. The Maker created the Veil.”

“No,” Leliana said, sitting on Giselle's other side. “Fen'Harel did. Solas.”

“No,” the older woman whispered distantly. “The Canticle of Threnodies states-”

Kaitala covered Giselle's hands with her own. “They're wrong. And we need your help to stop Solas from destroying our world.”

Giselle stood, her hands in rigid fists at her side. “I cannot.” She took a step away, then paused. “And yet I see no reason for you to lie about this,” she added in a voice so quiet Thom almost missed it. “But the Canticle...”

Kaitala stood, and Leliana shook her head once, sharply, no.

After a few seconds, Giselle turned to face them again. “I believe Solas may be a danger. The rest... How can I help?”

Kaitala laid out their needs: potions most of all, herbs to make poultices, food, horses to carry it, people to help them safely procure all those things and bring them to the gates in one day's time. They had money, Kaitala told her, but it wasn't safe for them to be out too much, and would look less suspicious coming from Giselle, who frequently went on missions loaded with supplies for the poor.

“We also need access to the Circle's stores. Dorian will need some things to help protect us.”

“You ask much.”

“I wouldn't if it weren't urgent. Please. We've been driven out of every place we've been by Solas' followers. Our time here is short, and we must get to Skyhold.”

“I will do what I can. Bring your money here, and we will deliver your items tomorrow at dawn to the south gate.”

“And the Circle?”

Giselle sighed. “I owe Dorian, still. Bring him here this evening, I will see he gets access.”

“Thank you,” Kaitala said. She nodded to the rest of them. “One of us will bring Dorian and the money by later. _Thank you_ ,” she repeated.

“The Herald of Andraste has earned the Chantry's support.”

Thom expected Kaitala to argue that title, saw it forming on her lips, but she stilled and simply bid Mother Giselle goodbye.

They were quiet on the walk back to the tavern. The salt air had a bite to it, but it woke Thom up and eased the headache the thick, incensed air of the Chantry had given him. As they neared the tavern, Cullen, leading the group, hesitated and then started running. Thom saw the door to the tavern was thrown wide and as he got closer he heard the faint sound of swords clashing, and he and the others all ran after Cullen.

Leliana got there first and slid through the doorway, disappearing into shadows. Kaitala was next and halted right in the doorway, keeping him and Cassandra from entering. “Guard the rear,” Kaitala shouted to them over the noise, before drawing her sword and moving forward. Thom hissed a curse between his teeth but did as she ordered, turning just in time to see a dagger coming towards him. He reacted without thought, turning to the side so the sharp blade scored his armor, and then he brought his knee up into the belly of the elf attacking him, only to see four more behind that one.

He glanced at Cassandra, saw she'd pulled her sword and was parrying two elves herself. The sounds of fighting inside gnawed at him, but he still had the dagger wielding elf trying to wrestle him to the ground, and his buddies waiting to strike.

Suddenly, the ground underneath them seemed to explode, and the four elves went flying, the hot air washing over Thom, making him cough.

“Looks like you need some help, yeah?” a familiar voice asked from above him. Thom punched the elf who'd attacked him, and then walloped him again with the butt of his sword, and the elf dropped to the ground, dazed. When he looked up, he saw Sera with her bow, and she shot an arrow that whispered past his leg to thud solidly into the elf on the ground. “Easy peasy,” she said cheerfully. Thom grinned up at her and turned to look at the four elves that Dagna's blast had taken down. The two at the epicenter weren't getting up again, but the other two were forcing themselves slowly to their feet.

“Ah just lie down already,” Sera complained, before shooting both with quick and deadly arrows. They dropped where they'd just barely stood. The rest of the street was clear, empty either from the early morning or the citizens avoiding bloodshed. The shouting and fighting from inside had stopped as well and Thom rushed through the door.

He found Bull standing over the bodies of three elves stacked on top of each other, a handful of shallow cuts across his broad chest. Another elf lay on his back steps away from Varric, bolts sticking out of his chest. Thom stepped over the body of another elf at the door that had the familiar burns of Dorian's magic bolts. Kaitala stood to the side, unharmed, Cullen just beyond her. There was no sign of the innkeeper.

“Well, shit,” Varric said.

“Everyone all right?” Kaitala asked. Thom looked around, saw them all agree. “Where's Leliana?”

“Here,” came the spymaster's voice and then, a moment later, Leliana herself. She was shoving the innkeeper in front of her, a wicked-looking knife at his thin throat. “I found him hiding in the kitchen.”

They heard a noise from upstairs and the dwarf from the night before peered down at them, spit, and then hurried back upstairs.

“We're going to get a crowd in a minute,” Kaitala said. “Bull, Cullen, Cass: help me move the bodies to the stables. Leliana, bring our innkeeper friend. Sera?” She blinked but moved on quickly. “Good to see you. Keep an eye out while we work. Everybody else bring all of our supplies. We left nothing in the rooms, right?” Everyone nodded their head. They'd planned for something along these lines, though Thom knew none of them had expected so many elves at once.

The group moved quickly, flowing around each other with little interruption and no chatter. Even Sera was quiet as she kept watch for another attack. As Kaitala had predicted, a crowd slowly grew at the top of the stairs as the group hurried to move everything. Thom felt their eyes on his back, reminded himself that he'd been pardoned for his crimes. Still he was glad to leave the blood-scented air of the inn behind for the musk and hay of the stables.

They'd shoved the bodies near the dung pile to help cover the smell and try to keep the horses quiet. Leliana had the innkeeper near there as well. The man was nondescript, and trembling. Calenhad sat a foot away staring at him, eerily still.

“Lady Adaar, look at this,” Leliana said once they'd all assembled. She tugged down the collar of the innkeeper's brown linen shirt. There were the thick lines of the Dread Wolf's symbol on his chest.

“But he's human!”

“My wife's an elf,” the man pleaded. “She made me get it. To protect me, she said. I thought it was an elvish superstition.”

Leliana pressed the knife against the man's throat and he went very still. “Where is your wife?”

“Gone. A week now. Said she needed special ingredients from Haven. She helps me run the inn, comes up with the meals.”

“Did you know any of these elves?” Kaitala asked, pointing at the hastily dumped bodies. The man's face blanched as his eyes quickly roved over them.

“No, no. I've never seen them before. I don't know why they attacked you, I swear!”

“He must know,” Leliana said. “He was hiding in the kitchen before they attacked.”

“I was making breakfast!” The trembling had started again.

“He will bring others after us.”

“We don't know that,” Kaitala said.

“We cannot take the chance.”

Cassandra stepped forward. “We cannot kill an innocent because of a suspicion.”

“We can't leave a loose end that could kill all of us.” That was Dorian, looking grim. Behind him, Bull nodded in agreement.

The man just stared down at the ground, and Thom couldn't tell if he was resigned or in shock.

Cullen shifted forward. “When is your wife due back?”

“Should be a day or two at most,” he said, not looking up, his voice hoarse.

“We can't stay here that long,” Thom said quietly to Kaitala. She nodded once.

“They're finding us faster, and in larger numbers, and the closer we get to him the worse it will be,” Kaitala said. “We need to leave here quickly and head for Haven.”

“Wouldn't do that if I were you,” Sera said. “Haven's rotten with elves all of a sudden, and they all look _pissed_. Good thing I can do that ponce-y elf thing, because they might not have let us leave otherwise. 'Oh dear, off to kill some humans, don't mind my dwarf, she's my sex slave,'” Sera squeaked in the worst posh accent Thom had ever heard. “Seemed to work 'cuz here we are.”

“Haven? You mean you never even made it to Kirkwall?”

“I only just got your message a bit ago,” Sera said, defensive. “Widdle and I were underground doing dwarfy stuff. We were halfway to Haven when the message got to me, and by then I figured we'd re-supply there then come up here to get to Kirkwall. Good thing we did, too, yeah?”

“Yeah,” Thom said. He reached out and hugged her tight, and she squeezed him with her deceptively strong arms.

“I just saw you a few weeks ago,” she said on a laugh, but she squeezed him even tighter before letting him go.

Thom's heart eased, seeing her and Dagna safe. Sera reminded him of Liddy, and he worried for her as he did for Liddy when she was alive.

“Lady Adaar,” Cullen said, “we cannot make it to Solas without food, healing potions, the items Dorian needs.”

“We could hunt on the way,” Thom said.

“I should be able to make some potions,” Dagna offered. “Got everything I need in my lab.”

“She's a right magician with that lab. Which makes sense, I guess,” Sera said.

“Dorian?”

“I still need those items if you want any sort of protective spell while we're sleeping. The hand...” He shrugged. “It was a gamble anyway. I still think our best chance is my earlier proposal.”

“Varric. Did you hear from Kirkwall?”

Varric sighed. “Yeah. Shokrakar didn't get to Malachi in time, just found him and one of Solas' elves.”

“Both dead?”

“Yes.”

Thom saw Kaitala flinch, felt the same response himself. And yet he feared – knew, if he were honest – that wouldn't be the last loss.

“Dorian, can Solas track the hand when it's in the box?'

“Ah now that's interesting, actually. The box is clearly magical, old magic, but it's not elvish. Not exactly.”

Dagna perked up, “What do you mean?”

“The magical resonance is similar, but the bindings are more like ancient Tevinter magic than anything else, and even that connection is tenuous at best. I've honestly never seen anything quite like it. What I do know is that it acts as a shield, which is why Solas has had to find you via dreams and not just following the hand itself. He can't see it at all in there.”

Kaitala squatted down in front of the innkeeper, waited until he looked up at her. She stared silently at him for a long minute, her hand resting loose on Calenhad's head. “Please,” the innkeeper whispered.

“Cassandra, gag him and tie him up and lock him in their food cellar,” Kaitala said, standing. “If he's telling the truth, his wife will be back to get him before things get dangerous. If he's not...well.” She stared coolly down at the innkeeper before turning her back on him and facing the group. “We'll take all the food he has in return for his life. Thom, buy a horse from one of the other patrons, we'll use it to carry the extra food. Leave all our coin with them, we won't need it after this. We're skipping Haven entirely.” She hesitated, and Thom saw her quiet confidence waver. “I have a plan for dealing with the dreaming, but we could use something to keep us awake every other night. Do you have anything like that, Dorian? Dagna?”

The two mages looked at each other. “Yes,” Dorian said slowly. “But-”

“It makes you jittery, sensitive to stimulation, and sometimes you hallucinate,” Dagna cut in. “Bad stuff, I wouldn't recommend it.”

“We're going to need it. Can you make it?”

Dagna nodded quickly. “Easy. I've got everything I need. It's a simple potion.”

“Is that really a concern any longer?” Cullen asked. “Surely he knows where we're heading by now.”

“I'm sure he does, but he won't know exactly where we are if he can't follow the hand. The more we can withhold from him, the better. Leliana, leave a message for Mother Giselle letting her know we no longer need her help.” Kaitala took them all in, her gaze coming to rest on Thom. He wasn't sure the others could see how scared she was, the soul-deep exhaustion she held at bay. He straightened and willed her to feel the full force of his belief in her. She gave him the faintest of smiles, but it was enough. “Let's get to work. We have a god to stop,” she said.

 

* * *

 

Less than an hour later they were riding out of the southern gates of Jader. There'd been no more attacks but they'd fallen into a protective formation as they rode. Thom and Sera were at the rear with Dagna leading her cart ahead of them. Thom was explaining everything that had happened, and Kaitala caught snatches of excited noises from Dagna and low curses from Sera. In front of them were Dorian and Bull with their cart containing Dorian's chest and the box with the hand. Leliana and Varric ranged along either side, keeping watch. Cass and Cullen were just behind Kaitala, and Calenhad loped around the whole group, returning regularly to Cullen's side.

They also had the horse that Thom had managed to buy tied to Dagna's wagon. Thom had said it'd been almost impossible convincing any of the patrons at the inn to even talk to him, let alone sell him their horse. If he hadn't had two purses of coin they would've run him out into the street. It was an older mare, but she was in good health, and strong, and she easily bore the weight of the innkeep's stores.

They'd gotten lucky with those stores, at least, and had enough food that she wasn't worried about that, but everything else in their way was more than enough to keep her from taking a deep breath, starting with which path to take. One of Skyhold's greatest strengths for the Inquisition was one of their biggest problems now: getting to it. There were two primary paths that Kaitala knew of, and both had seemingly insurmountable problems. The direct path, the one that Solas had led them on when the Haven refugees followed behind, was wide and relatively easy and would certainly be heavily guarded by Solas' elvish army. There was a second route that Kaitala had discovered in the early years at Skyhold that had, she guessed now, been put in by Solas himself. The route was longer, rougher, and would be easier to find cover, but the wagons would never make it and she didn't think they'd last that long without regular sleep. And if Solas had been the one who made the second path, he would have guards there, as well.

They had two days on this road before they would get to the point where they'd have to branch off, and Haven itself was only another day after that, which meant if they took the main entrance to Skyhold, they'd have to factor in avoiding the town based on Sera's report.

At this point it would be easier to fly in then ride.

The worst part was the problem of getting there was more solvable than the one of what to do once they did. Kaitala wasn't sure she could control the hand, and Solas' powers were only growing. She trusted that Dorian was right, that Solas was stuck preparing for the ritual and couldn't come after them, but the number of elves that attacked at Jader was a concern. How many elves had he brought to his side? How was he getting his messages out?

Kaitala frowned. That problem may actually be fixable. She slowed her horse to wait for Dorian, gesturing for Cullen and Cassandra to continue.

“What's up, boss?” Bull asked as his huge warhorse came plodding forward. The cart it pulled looked almost laughably small compared to the gray stallion.

“I need to talk to your boyfriend, actually.” Bull grinned and kept riding, and she nudged Anaan to walk next to Dorian's stunning white mare.

“All's well?” Dorian asked.

“We're all alive still, so for now, yes.”

“Ever the optimist. A good night's sleep will do that, I suppose. Among other things.” He tapped his neck and nodded meaningfully at her. Kaitala pressed her fingers to her neck, winced when she felt a bruise, and then flushed at the memory of how she'd gotten it. Dorian smiled brilliantly. “Good for you, dear. Can't say as I haven't had my share myself, though I do try to keep him away from above my shoulders. Don't want to mar the perfection.” He smoothed back his mustache carefully.

“Have you ever thought of shaving that?”

Dorian looked horrified. “I might as well shave off my eyebrows!”

“Sorry, sorry.” Kaitala said. “Forget I suggested it.”

“I will, believe me. I suspect you didn't come back here to talk about facial hair or sex though.”

“No. I was hoping you could help us solve one of our problems.”

“Would that be the path to Skyhold problem, the attacking Solas problem, or the sleeping problem?”

“For now the first one, sort of. That was a much bigger group that attacked us this morning, which means they're probably communicating now. I remember Solas telling me in the dream back at Kirkwall that he was going to talk to his people to tell them we were there and I know he didn't use ravens. Any thoughts? Anything we could do to mess up their contact?”

Dorian pursed his lips, and Kaitala admired the serious, handsome figure he made in the early afternoon light. “There is so much we don't know,” he murmured. “But if I had to make an assumption, it would be that Solas has a few key people who are running some sort of magical communication path. I don't know if he's given them control of the Eluvians, or magical crystals like ours, or relying on mages in the Fade. It could be a combination of all three.”

“How did they get so many elves together in Jader so quickly, though?”

“They probably were pulled from Haven, based on what Sera has told us. Solas may be pulling all of the elves this way as a protective force. It makes the most sense with everything that's happened so far. If he was the one who sent Sera the hand, then he would also be waiting for you to activate it. You and Rainier had been keeping a low profile and traveling, so he couldn't know where you would be when it happened, which meant he had faithful waiting in different cities around Thedas for his signal. Those are the ones that have been attacking you every time you get somewhere. But how did he...” Dorian's eyes brightened. “Oh that's clever. It must be those Dread Wolf sigils of his. They must have some sort of magic to them, I didn't even think to check. More fool, I.”

“So the sigils...alert them?”

“I would assume that, yes. They're probably connected to the Fade in some way, possibly even to you as well.”

“Me?” Kaitala frowned. “That's an unpleasant thought.”

“You _are_ the key, my dear. You were the only one who could unlock the hand.”

“Lucky me. Do you think I'm the only one who can control it? Is it possible someone else, like you, could get to Solas with it?”

Dorian raised one elegant eyebrow. “An interesting proposition. Solas clearly thinks he will be able to use it once unlocked, so possibly someone else could. But Solas is much more powerful than I am, much as I hate to admit that out loud. Still it may be an option worth exploring, though I'm loathe to open the box at this point. It's like waving a giant flag over our heads at a dragon.” He shrugged. “I'll spend some time discussing it with Dagna. If we're going to come up with a way to destroy it, she'll need a look and so will I. In the meantime, the next time we're attacked, I'll take a closer look at their marks. Veilfire may illuminate the rune underneath.”

“Good. Thank you.”

“I don't think I can help with the sleeping problem, though.”

Kaitala sighed. “I assumed. We're going to have to share time with the ring at night for everybody but Varric and Dagna, maybe Bull, and use the carts for people to catch naps during the day. If we're going to stay together, it's the best we can do.”

Dorian looked at her, his gaze sharp. “Not thinking of abandoning our little group now, are you?”

She couldn't quite meet his eyes. “I could take the ring and the hand, travel on my own with just Anaan. It would be faster. Quieter. But if they found me-”

“Which they would.”

She inclined her head. “That's why I didn't do it.” She glanced back at Thom, who was laughing at something Sera was telling him.

“He would follow you anyway. If you left.”

“Not if I ordered him to stay.”

“Mm.” Dorian glanced back, too, and then at Kaitala. “Perhaps you don't know Thom Rainier as well as you think.”

“What does that mean?”

“Surely you must realize that man would do literally anything you asked him to do, or die trying, _except_ leave you alone to certain death.”

Anaan stepped gingerly over a hole in the road, and Kaitala shifted in the saddle to accommodate him. He whickered. “He may not have a choice here,” she said quietly.

Dorian reached over and squeezed her hand. “It doesn't have to end that way.”

“I don't see how else it could. If I even manage to get close to Solas, trying to use the hand...don't you remember what it was like, right before he took it from me last time? I could barely control it then, and it was attached to me. I knew I was going to die. And then it was gone.” She breathed out, trying to control the shakiness in her voice. “But I didn't escape anything, I just delayed it.”

“That's all life is, really.” Dorian gestured at the cart with the hand in it, “But this isn't fate, Kaitala. It's a battle. A battle can still be won or lost, and you've got us.”

The sun burned high overhead, baking the road in the late summer heat. Dust puffed up from the horses' feet, and quiet conversations carried only as murmurs in the heavy air. She didn't know what to say, how to explain how she believed, somewhere fundamentally in her soul, that she wouldn't make it out alive. Kaitala took a long drink from her waterskin. Finally she said, “I wouldn't want anyone else by my side.”

They both knew it wasn't the answer he wanted, but they smiled at each other anyway because it was still true.

“We should find a place to rest the horses a bit,” she said. “Hot today.”

“Much more to my liking. Thank you for not doing this in winter.” Dorian shuddered.

“My pleasure,” she said dryly. She pressed a hand to his shoulder, and then urged Anaan forward to let Cass and Cullen know. She felt Dorian watching her for a long time.

 

* * *

 

They called a halt late into the evening, when it was nearly too dark to see. Varric and Dagna helped get a campfire burning while the others set up tents, tended to the horses, and prepared the campsite. Varric then picked through the innkeeper's food and while everyone talked and laughed, he cooked up an unexpectedly sumptuous meal.

“Don't get used to this,” he said when he served it. There was a haunch of fresh venison flavored with spices Kaitala couldn't name, and a medley of fresh vegetables sauteed in the drippings of the meat. “I figured we'd use the fresh stuff first, keep it from going bad.” He held up a bottle of wine as well. “And this I determined we would need given how very badly our day started.”

“This looks delicious, Varric, thank you,” Cassandra said. She smiled warmly at him and Kaitala nudged Thom with her elbow and grinned.

They ate in relative silence, occasionally breaking in to compliment the food or ask for another drink of the wine. When they were done, Bull gathered up their bowls and waterskins. “Sera, come help me find the river, will you?”

“What, because I'm an elf I have some sort of connection to nature?”

“No, but you can see much better than me in the dark.”

“Oh, right, that makes sense.” She hopped up and grabbed her bow, following him into the dark of the woods where they'd heard the stream earlier.

Thom sat working on a small carving while he listened to Cass and Cullen talking about Seeker training. Dagna and Dorian had their heads together over one of Dorian's books, Dagna gesturing animatedly. Leliana and Varric were finishing off the wine bottle and trying to pin down the year it had been corked without looking at the date.

Kaitala had missed this, having her friends close by. It was an impossible dream to keep them together; they all had lives that had to be lived elsewhere. But if by some miracle of Andraste they all survived this, this was the part she would carry in her heart: nights around a warm campfire, sharing stories and bad jokes and the occasional brief spat, knowing that whatever tomorrow would bring they were together tonight.

Thom leaned towards her. “You all right, love?”

“Yes,” she ran her fingers through his thick hair. “Just taking it all in.”

Bull and Sera came back, seemingly in the middle of an argument. “Oi, she'll know. Kaitala!” Everyone in the group looked up. “Bull here says Qunari have much bigger dicks than humans. Like, we're talking oak to acorn. You've seen both. What do you think?”

Kaitala covered her face with her hand while Thom laughed until he was in tears.

“If we're talking proportionally,” Varric said conversationally, “you really have to give it to dwarves.”

“What? Really?” Sera dropped back down to the ground by the campfire while Bull handed back cleaned bowls and full waterskins.

“Oh yeah. For our height, we're really well hung.”

“Is that true, Seeker?” Sera asked Cassandra, who went red as a beet.

“Well, I-I uh-”

“It's true,” Leliana said, and Kaitala had to laugh at the look of shock on Sera's face.

“You've seen all three?”

“Elves too,” Leliana said. “Dwarves win by far. Proportionally. And Bull is exaggerating.” She held out the wine bottle to Varric. “9:29 Dragon. These vineyards were destroyed in the Blight, which makes this a very expensive wine.”

He held the bottle up to the light and then whistled appreciatively. “Nicely done, Nightingale.”

“Huh,” Sera said, eyeing Varric. He grinned at her. She then punched Bull on the shoulder. “You had me on! Good one.”

Bull's deep laugh rolled out into the night.

They talked around the fire for another hour, until conversation slowed and they were all staring idly at the flames. Cullen looked up from where he was petting Calenhad, who was asleep at his feet. “You said you had a plan for our sleep schedules?”

Kaitala yawned. “Yes. Because Solas will be looking for all of us – or all of us who dream – we need to share the ring and sleep in shifts. We'll do three hour shifts, starting with Dorian, Cassandra, and Leliana tonight, me, Thom, and you tomorrow. Varric, Dagna, you don't dream, and we could use a couple of well-rested people to keep an eye on us, so you should just plan to sleep.” She held up her hand when they both started to protest. “I know, it doesn't feel fair, you want to switch with the rest of us, I get it. But it does our quest no good to have you sleep-deprived if you don't need to be. Bull, I think you're probably safe, too. Solas can find me because of my connection to the Fade so I think you should try to sleep until he starts looking harder for you. Sera, he doesn't know you're with us yet, so you should sleep while you can, too.”

“Happy to,” she said.

“Three hours of sleep every other night is going to be debilitating,” Cassandra said. “Our reflexes will be dulled.”

“That's why Dagna's going to make some of the stimulant potions,” the dwarf nodded, “and we're going to take turns napping in the cart during the day.”

Thom groaned. “Crammed into that little cart while pulled along a bumpy road? Sounds delightful.”

“Unless you can magically produce a covered palanquin, this is it.”

“Dorian?”

The mage scowled. “If only I could.”

“Then it's settled,” Kaitala said. “Who's using the ring first?”

After a quick discussion, they determined it would be Dorian first, then Leliana and Cassandra for the first night, and Kaitala, then Thom and Cullen the second night.

“How many nights do we have of this?” Cullen asked.

“That I don't know,” she admitted. “There are two paths to Skyhold-”

“Three,” Dagna said.

Kaitala frowned. “You know a third way?”

“Remember our chat earlier about the problems?” Dorian asked. “I was thinking more about that one in particular, so I pulled out the Elvish book from before and went over it with Dagna. We believe we've found a third way in.”

“You know that giant drop down the mountain you can see from the opening in the Undercroft? There are stairs there, leading down. They were clearly carved a _very_ long time ago, and since the Undercroft was also ancient, we think they may have been the elves' original path up to Skyhold. The book supports that, seems like that area in particular was where they performed a lot of Elvish rituals.”

“Then wouldn't Solas know about them?”

Dagna shrugged. “Possibly. But he also knows they're in disrepair and would probably think they're way too risky to climb, so he won't be guarding for it. He may even be performing the ritual in the Undercroft itself, so doesn't feel like he needs to guard it.”

“If they're too risky to climb, shouldn't we avoid them?”

“See, I don't think they are. Going down you'd almost certainly slip and die, but going up is different. I never went down them because of that, but I scouted around and found the bottom one day, and it all looks like it's in about the same shape. If Dorian and I could just provide some magical assistance, and a little dwarva know-how, we could make a few areas a little stronger. I think it's our best shot to get in undetected. And Solas doesn't know we know about it. He never liked me, so I don't think he expected I'd find it.”

“That is surprisingly good news. Good work.”

Dagna beamed, and Sera leaned over and kissed her loudly on the mouth. “That's my Widdle,” she said.

“We'll need to head off the road early in our journey tomorrow,” Dorian said, opening the book to an ancient looking map of the area. “Here is our best path to get there. Which means no carts, and no naps.”

“Not losing much there,” Thom grumbled.

Kaitala looked at the map. “I wonder...” They all waited expectantly, while she ran the idea through her mind. When she looked up at Dorian, he was already frowning. “It would make more sense,” she started.

“You are assuming no elves will be able to find you on this path. If we've judged incorrectly, and Solas _is_ guarding this way, too, then you will never make it.”

Next to her, Thom stiffened. “You can't go on your own,” he said, his voice low.

“If Solas doesn't see us coming at all, he'll know something is up.”

“If he sees all of us without you, he will know the same,” Dorian pointed out.

“Then what if we split up?” Kaitala asked. “I seem to be able to protect myself enough during sleep that I could make it one more week. If Varric, Dagna, Sera, and Bull come with me, and the rest of you take the ring and go another way, it might throw him off.”

“No,” Thom said. “We need to stay together, all of us. He sent too many for just a few of us to handle at Jader. If he finds you on the way-”

“Then he could send a whole army and we'll all be killed anyway. If the elves find you on the road, they may let you go when they realize you don't have the hand. It could buy us time.”

“Do you really think Solas won't kill us all?” Leliana asked.

“He made it clear he would when he found me in the dream last night,” Thom said.

“What? You didn't say that.”

“I should've, I'm sorry.” He stared down at his hands. “He took me back to the forest, where Callier was killed. Said some things. I called him an idiot,” Sera hooted with laughter, “and he said he would kill me first.” Thom glanced up at her and the look of despair on his face hurt her heart. “He'll kill us all, Kaitala. He will kill everyone, without question, to get to you and the hand, and then he will kill you. He's not the man you knew.”

Kaitala exhaled slowly. “Okay. We stay together for now. We'll take Dagna's back route and leave the carts here so they don't know exactly where we went off the road. Dagna, can you put together some of the potions tonight?”

“I'm on it.”

“I can make some as well, since I'm only sleeping first shift,” Dorian added.

“Good. Dorian, Bull, Sera, Varric, try to get some rest. Everybody else do what you need to to stay awake. Tonight won't be much of a problem, but we'll need to watch each other over the next several nights to keep from accidentally falling asleep.”

The group stirred, Dagna heading for her laboratory, the sleepers trudging reluctantly to their tents, the others stretching and starting to move around. Kaitala and Thom both sat for a moment longer.

“What did he say to you?” she asked him quietly.

The fire popped and crackled, casting light over the dark shadows on his face. Smoke wafted past them. After a long minute, hands curled tightly around his carving, Thom said: “that I was who I knew myself to be.”

“Thom-”

“The bodies were there, the children-” He choked to a stop, but Kaitala remained quiet. They had talked about this before and she knew it was best to wait. “He also asked,” Thom finally continued, “what you would say, if you knew.” He lifted his gaze to hers, and shifted his tight grip to her hand. “That's what gave me strength. I already knew what you'd say.”

Kaitala nodded. “And I'll say it as many times as you need it. I can't forgive you for this act, that's not mine to do. But the man you truly are deserves the chance to see and set other things right in the world. To seek forgiveness without forgetting. To be happy.”

“It's that last I can't quite believe,” he said, “and yet I am, every day I'm with you.”

She thought first to make a sly comment, try to ease his mood, but it felt wrong to take his words lightly when they were given with such love. Instead she let her heart respond, brought their clasped hands up and pressed them to her cheek and whispered, “I am, too.” They sat like that by the fire while the others continued to move quietly around them in the darkness.

 

* * *

 


	9. Chapter 9

The next attack came late that night.

Cassandra had just gone into the tent to sleep and Leliana was walking in a slow circle at the edges of their campsite to wake up. Everyone else was sitting by the fire, having worn out what limited activities they could do in the dark and the quiet.

“I didn't realize staying up all night could be so boring,” Cullen murmured. “I would've brought my chess set if I'd realized.”

“I wonder if I could carve something?” Thom mused.

“They're here!” Leliana's sharp cry sliced between them, followed by an arrow that wobbled as it flew before fluttering to the dirt at Kaitala's feet.

Kaitala leapt up, grabbing her sword from the ground behind her and swinging it up to face the darkness. Thom had his out as well, guarding their side. From the edges of the campfire, on all sides, came elves.

Their charge was chaotic, a mad rush of people who had never fought together, and it was the only thing that saved her group. Kaitala had time to register movement in the tents before two elves were on her, both with longswords, while Thom took on at least two others and Cullen guarded her other side from more. Her elves ran forward together but then stopped when she brought her sword to bear, until one nudged the other forward. They were bunched together, and she made quick work of the first elf, parrying his awkward thrust in the close quarters, kicking him squarely in the knee, and then slicing her sword down through his shoulder into his chest. Whatever noises the elf made were swallowed by the shouts and ringing of metal from all around her. Kaitala's second elf shifted his feet, looked like he may run, but before she could demand his surrender he lunged in to attack. Kaitala ripped her sword out of the dead elf in front of her and caught the second elf's swing on the way up. It hit at such an angle that it sent the sword flying out of his hand, and then he had an arrow in his neck and he, too, fell to the ground.

Kaitala looked around, saw Sera tap two fingers to her nose and then turn and fire at an elf that was rushing Dorian from behind. Dorian, meanwhile, hurled a lightning bolt at a line of elves hovering at the edges, taking three of them down. Thom had dealt with two more himself and was facing a third that was wielding a pair of long, sharp daggers. Kaitala glanced at Cullen, saw him smash the hilt of his sword into the face of the elf in front of him, and then spin and follow through with a straight slice through a second. There were no more elves emerging on their side, so Kaitala turned to the tents, where Cassandra was fending off several elves with a shield but no armor, Varric was supporting her with Bianca, and Bull was, from what Kaitala could tell, naked and angry and taking it out on the three elves surrounding him.

The battle was over quickly, a decisive bloodbath that left nearly twenty-five elves dead and their group tired but uninjured.

“Is everyone okay?” Kaitala asked. The group nodded.

“Too easy,” Sera said as they surveyed the damage.

“It's almost insulting,” Dorian said, irritated. “These are clearly just whoever he had strewn about. He fought with us for two years, does he really think so little of our abilities?”

“Maybe they're new recruits and Solas sent them as a test,” Leliana suggested.

“Solas may not have sent them directly. If they were journeying to or from Haven, they could have all been signaled by their marks, like we talked about,” Kaitala said.

Dorian searched a couple of the bodies. “No marks on these,” he said. Then he knelt down next to one who had a mark on the top of his hand. A ball of green veilfire appeared in Dorian's palm. “Let's take a look, shall we?” Dagna hurried over next to him and the two mages talked quietly for a moment before they both turned and looked at Kaitala. She shifted her feet under their scrutiny. Dorian held the veilfire up until it washed over Kaitala, and she blinked against the light in her eyes.

“That's so neat,” Dagna said.

“Well I'll be,” Thom said. “Look at your arm.”

Kaitala looked down at her left arm and gasped. In the space where it should have ended was the faint outline of her forearm and hand in glowing green.

“Bull, help me here please,” Dorian said. Bull came over and at Dorian's direction, easily lifted the elf's body. While Dorian held the hand out, they walked closer to Kaitala. She didn't feel any different, but both the outline of her hand and the Dread Wolf sigil on the elf's hand glowed brighter and brighter in the veilfire light as they neared each other.

“That answers one question at least,” Dorian said. “And poses several interesting new ones, like can this connection be disrupted?” He looked over at Dagna, who shrugged.

“If Solas is the one who came up with the magic they're using, probably not. I'm not even entirely sure how it works.”

“If Kaitala has been a...a beacon this whole time, then why hasn't Solas just used that to find her?” Cassandra asked.

“Everything points back to the fact that he cannot leave Skyhold, and has to have surrogates doing the work for him. I suspect this only happens to her when the sigil is near. We can spend time figuring out how near they have to be, but I don't think that's worthwhile when we're this close to a town and road full of Solas' elves. We should get as quickly to that third path as we can.” He let the veilfire dissipate, and Kaitala blinked against the sudden darkness.

“Agreed,” she said. “We're clearly close enough to something to have attracted a whole party of them, whether Solas sent them specifically or not. Let's pack up and get moving.”

“I only have a handful of potions done,” Dagna said. “It won't be enough to last us.”

“We'll have to deal with that in a few days. Leave the carts here with the bodies. They can wonder what happened when they find it all again.” Kaitala moved towards the tent to start breaking things down. “Leliana, Sera, can you help hide our tracks on our way out?”

“The best we can, though with the horses it's going to be difficult to do it completely,” Leliana said.

“What if we all ride our horses out in different directions?” Sera asked. “We all know where we're going, if we ride straight out, then around the campsite halfway, then make our way one at a time it might make everything really confusing?”

“Good idea,” Kaitala said. “And if you happen to lay traps on a few of the wrong paths, that might convince them they're going the right way.”

“Oh tricky, I like that!”

Kaitala grinned at her. “I learned from the best.”

Packing happened quietly and quickly, and soon they were gathering their horses. Dorian stared longingly down at his chest, having packed just a few essential books and leaving the rest. Dagna was draped across her laboratory while Sera promised to build her one twice as good once this was done. Eventually everyone mounted and they rode out in ten different directions. After a minute the call passed along to turn and they each walked parallel to the campsite, pushing their horses through as many bushes as possible to make as complicated and confusing a path as they could. After another minute the call went out again, and they rendezvoused down the path Dorian had indicated. Sera, Varric, and Leliana went back to lay a few traps on the wrong trails before they set off.

The forest was thick here, and they could only ride single file with Dorian in the lead, picking a careful path through the wild undergrowth. He had his staff up with the end lit, trying to see in the murky dark. The sun wasn't up yet, and the sky was only starting to lighten along the eastern horizon, when they could see the eastern horizon at all through the wall of trees.

“Bloody creepy in here,” Sera complained from behind Kaitala.

“What, no call from nature to your elvish blood?” Thom teased her.

“No calls from your butt to your wanker blood?” Sera asked to Thom's delighted laugh.

“That doesn't even make sense,” Cassandra said from in front of Kaitala.

“Don't overthink it,” Varric said, his horse between Cass and Kaitala's. “You'll just make your head hurt.”

“My head hurts from listening to all this nonsense,” Dorian said.

Thom grunted. “You sound like Vivienne.”

“You wound me, Rainier.”

“I remember someone spending half the night in the Hissing Wastes singing very bawdy drinking songs about sheep and Fereldans.”

Dorian sniffed. “I'm surprised you remember that night given how much Dwarven ale you'd consumed.”

“Mostly it's just the songs and the headache I remember,” Thom admitted.

Varric snorted. “I remember other things about that night.”

Kaitala urged Anaan over a high log, pointing it out for Thom, who was behind her in the line, so he would be aware of it, and tried to remember that evening herself. She remembered Dorian singing, too, and the way the smell of the ale had burned her throat when Varric had first uncorked the bottle. She'd tapped out early and gone to sleep while the other three had been bragging about enemies killed. In the morning, Thom and Dorian had both been miserable with hangovers, and Varric had been very quiet but didn't seem otherwise impaired.

“Spill it!” Sera commanded.

“As I recall, this was around the time these two gentlemen were infatuated with their lovely Qunari partners, but a bit, shall we say, frustrated?”

“Oh Maker,” Thom groaned. “Now I remember.”

Dorian half-turned in his saddle. “Varric-”

“I think limericks were your method of delivery, weren't they?”

Sera whooped excitedly. “Limericks! The best poetry!” Dagna, just behind her and with her own light source for the back half of the group, giggled.

“You could've kissed me whenever you wanted, _kadan_.” Bull's deep bellow rolled over them from the very back of the line.

“We're not doing a very good job of hiding ourselves if we're just going to yell back and forth to each other all night,” Cullen said. He was behind Dagna, and Leliana behind him.

“Varric owes us a limerick,” Sera said. “Give us one of Beardy's.”

Kaitala had to admit she burned with curiosity – she remembered that she and Thom had kissed by then, but they hadn't gone much beyond that due to Thom's insistence. At the time she'd thought it was a Grey Warden thing. But Cullen had a point. “Save it for our break,” she said. “Because I really want to hear this.”

“Will do, my lady.” Varric saluted her and the group fell quiet again, the rest of their journey into the morning accompanied by the crack of twigs underfoot and the occasional quiet conversation in the line.

And as they rode, Kaitala's phantom hand ached.

 

* * *

 

“'There once was a lady with horns',” Varric started, as they all stretched and took turns getting water for themselves and their horses at a stream. It was early afternoon and they'd been plowing through the crowded forest for hours. Thom was certain he would never feel his ass again. “'Who was given a crown made of thorns.'”

Thom groaned, loudly, but Sera elbowed him into silence.

“'She wore it with pride / though it burned her inside / and she led them all safe through the storms.'”

“What kind of a crap limerick is that?” Sera asked, turning to Thom. “Not one dirty word!”

“He was very maudlin by the time we got to limericks,” Varric said. “Maudlin and weirdly chivalrous.”

Thom recalled faintly that he'd gone on at length about Kaitala's fighting skills and how they were akin to Andraste's, and prayed to the Maker that Varric didn't remember that part.

“What about Dorian then, hey? I bet his had loads of dirty words,” Sera said.

Varric idly scratched his chest, his face scrunching up as he thought. “I feel like there was something about frogs?”

Dorian sighed. “Here, let me: 'A Qunari has a cock like a log / and it hops about like a frog / you've never seen dicks / that have taken more licks / and kept working as hard as a dog'.”

Sera burst out laughing and couldn't be stopped until they had to leave again.

 

* * *

 


	10. Chapter 10

“Lady Adaar,” Leliana called from the back, “I need to speak with you.”

They'd been slowly making their way through the forest for hours more, the amusement of their brief break earlier having dwindled away. It was late in the afternoon now, and Thom had hoped they would be stopping soon. The alternating monotony and intense focus on tricky sections of the path, coupled with the dense heat and his lack of sleep the night before, were making him dizzy and fuzzy-headed.

Kaitala turned to look back at Leliana, and he saw her blink slowly, as though waking from a dream. “Dorian,” she called out to the front. “Let's halt for a few minutes.” There was a general sigh of relief down the line.

Thom dismounted and stretched his arms out and around, twisted from side to side until the bones in his back and neck cracked. Kaitala did the same and groaned. “I'm wishing for that palanquin right about now,” she mused.

Leliana stepped quietly through the forest's thick underbrush and motioned for Thom to come closer to her and Kaitala. “Do not look alarmed, or around, but we are being followed,” she said quietly, as she rolled her shoulders up and down as though she were joining them in stretching and nothing more.

“Where?” Thom asked, keeping his voice low and, he hoped, his face calm.

“On either side.” Leliana gracefully pulled one arm behind her back. “Two, three at most. I am not sure what their intention is, unless they've seen what happened at the last campsite and are waiting for reinforcements.”

“Can we flush them out?” Kaitala asked as she tilted her head side to side and smiled gamely.

“Possibly. They are skilled, but this forest favors us for now. The problem is what happens if we do not manage to get them all.”

“If this is such an unused trail, how are they on us again so quickly?” Thom asked.

Kaitala pursed her lips. “If it's just a few, they may just be scouts Solas has around. He seems to have gathered a significant number of elves to his side.” She looked around them with a nonchalance belied by her sharp eyes. “We have to find these ones, before they can get reinforcements. Let Sera know what's up, and as we ride I'll ask you two to find us some herbs for more of Dagna's potions.”

Leliana nodded, smiled brightly and laughed like Kaitala had told a hilarious joke. “I can't believe he said that!” she said, her voice lifting out and up to the trees. “I've got to share that with Sera.”

As she wandered off, Thom said, “Speaking of Dagna's potions, I think it might be time to try them.”

“I know. I almost fell asleep, and some of the others don't look much better.” She gestured at Cullen, who was yawning wide and long. “Small portions for everyone who didn't sleep last night. I'll let the others know about the watchers.”

Thom nodded and trudged through the underbrush to Dagna. Together they portioned out doses for Kaitala, Cullen, Cassandra, and himself and he took them around, getting everyone to drink. He threw back his own in one gulp, and gasped at the stench and burn of it. “Well that's horrific,” he coughed, returning the small dosing cups to Dagna.

She smiled cheerfully. “That's how you know it's working!”

“What's in this?”

“What you're smelling is the stinkweed. The burning is probably the felandaris.”

“ _Felandaris_?! I thought that was poisonous?”

“Oh it is!” Thom gaped at her. She frowned. “That probably isn't comforting, is it? It is, but it's mixed with Arbor Blessing at a ratio of one to three that nullifies the poison as soon as it's released. Do you feel tingling?”

Thom, slightly panicked now, focused on his body and realized his toes and fingers were tingling. “Yes. Is that bad?”

“Nope! That's the poison being neutralized. You look worried. There's no need to be! If I'd gotten the ratios wrong you'd already be dead.”

Thom was silent for a minute and then barked out a laugh. “Lass, you have a strangely comforting bedside manner.”

“Thanks!” Dagna smiled and tucked the cups in her saddlebags. “Need anything else?”

“Anything I _should_ be worried about?”

“This was a small enough dose that you shouldn't have any hallucinations yet. There may be some trembling or nervous energy as the real kick-in-the-pants part of the potion starts to work, but that will smooth out after an hour or so. In about six hours you're going to crash pretty hard, so you'll need another dose if you're not ready to sleep. As you continue to dose, the side effects will start to build. Hallucinations usually start after the third dose, and get worse with each progressive dose.”

“Lovely.”

“But you shouldn't be in any real danger until the fifth dose in a row. And once you get some sleep the effects will wear off and it sort of resets. But you have to sleep.”

“Our sleep shift is tonight so that shouldn't be a problem, but we should keep an eye on Cassandra.”

“Oh and you shouldn't take any healing potions while you're on this.”

Thom frowned. “What? Why not?”

“The elfroot interacts really strangely with some of the ingredients, and it usually makes the wounds worse.”

“'Usually'?”

“Yeah, every once in awhile it just kills you.”

“Noted. No healing potions. Anything else I should be aware of?”

“I think that's it. You'll be fine, I promise. Someone should tell the others about the healing potions, though.”

“That's my next stop,” he said. He gave her a quick bow and went to share the side effects and dangers with the rest of the group.

They were mounted and riding again a few minutes after that and Kaitala called back to Leliana and Sera as planned. The two unhitched their bows and split off in opposite directions. Thom watched the tension ripple through those in front of him: their backs straightening, the way Varric shifted Bianca in his lap and Cassandra's hand rested on the hilt of her sword.

It was quiet for too long, none of them wanting to speak in case they missed hearing a call from their friends. Thom's fingers flexed, curled around the pommel of his saddle as he strained to hear anything besides the horse's heavy footfalls. His heart was pounding and he tapped some nameless tune on his knee with his free hand, while the leaves on the trees came into bright, sharp focus. He could barely look in the direction of the sun. Dagna's potion was clearly working.

Then out of the silence to their left: a sharp cry, the scream of birds, and then quiet again. Thom drew his sword but stayed on the horse when Kaitala motioned him to hold. After a moment Leliana came from their right, and Sera emerged from the left a heartbeat later.

“Got one,” Sera announced with grim satisfaction. “It was a Qunari.”

“Mine as well,” Leliana said. “But I think one got away.”

“Probably going for reinforcements,” Bull said. “They must've been following us, or the elves. That's going to complicate things.”

“Let's keep pushing into the evening, get as far as we can,” Kaitala said. Thom watched her foot jumping against Anaan, knew she was fighting off the sudden thrill of energy from the potion as well.

“Let's go!” Cullen said too loudly. His pale skin was flushed.

“You sure you gave us the right doses?” Thom asked Dagna. His sword hand trembled.

“This is all normal,” she said. “It'll pass soon. It'll go faster if you move around, though. Maybe lead your horses?”

Cassandra hopped down from hers. “Maker, yes. My skin feels like it will leap off of me if I don't move.”

The four of them easily kept pace on foot with the others on their horses, and after an hour – as Dagna had promised – their bodies slowed down and they were all able to ride as before. Thom stopped feeling like he could see every single mote of dust in the air, but still felt awake and alert.

The effects lasted long into the evening, finally dissipating as they were setting up camp. They'd broken out of the thickest part of the forest and decided to pause instead of pressing on through the night. As the potion wore off, Thom's muscles started to twinge, and then ache, until he felt like every movement was pushing through mud. He saw the others moving slowly about their tasks, as well, similarly affected. Thom wasn't sure how he'd make it through the first watch to his scheduled sleep. Cassandra had taken her second dose to get through the night, and he almost envied her her crisp movements as she bustled around the camp, getting tents in place, staking the horses, and helping the rest of them through their exhaustion.

“She's going to need to sleep tomorrow,” Thom murmured to Kaitala in passing, nodding his head towards Cassandra as she started a campfire.

“Think she'll let us tie her to her horse?” Kaitala asked.

Thom's answer was interrupted by the sudden thwip thwip thwip of arrows.

Dorian had set up magical wards circling the campsite that protected them from any initial incoming barrage, and the arrows fell useless to the ground. Thom pulled his weapon and shield, and saw the others arming themselves as well, all turning to face the enemy.

Elves melted out of the shadows gathering in the woods, enough that Thom felt his stomach turn over. These elves had sleek armor, sharp weapons, and the hard look of experienced fighters. “How'd they get here so fast?” he growled, settling into a defensive stance.

“Later,” Kaitala snapped. “Leliana, Sera, Varric – take the archers. The rest of us will split up into at least pairs of two. No one fights alone, I don't want you surrounded!”

The elves murmured to each other in Elvish as they came in a half-circle around the campsite. Leliana had pointed out the huge boulder that protected their backs now, and Thom was grateful they'd chosen to camp here at what had seemed an overly cautious choice minutes before. The elves continued to fan out, but wouldn't be able to encircle them. Cullen and Cassandra shifted to Dagna's side to face the middle of the arc, Cullen calling Calenhad to the ready; Dorian and Bull aimed for the left wing and he and Kaitala braced for the right. There had to be at least twenty elves, and each one looked deadly.

“Go!” Kaitala shouted, and they charged, with bolts and arrows leading them.

He and Kaitala carved off five from the group, while their archer ducked Varric's bolts. Thom led with his shield, slamming hard into the elf in the middle while his companion's sword hit Thom's back at an odd angle and bounced off of his armor. He was, briefly, surrounded by three elves until Kaitala used her size and strength to roll her shoulder under one and upend him, so that she was at Thom's side again. They turned back-to-back as the elves attacked in a coordinated flow. Outside of their small circle Thom heard shouts and the ringing of steel and dull thud of wood, but he had no time or attention for anything but the merciless advance of the elves around he and Kaitala. They shifted constantly, trying to stack three or four elves against one of them, usually her, and it kept Thom and Kaitala constantly shuffling as they parried attacks and tried to find space for their own in return. Thom wished now he had taken another sip of Dagna's potion. He could barely convince his feet to move, even though standing still would mean death.

Off to the side, a small explosion shook the leaves off the trees and lit the darkening night in a red-orange blaze, but the elves were too well-trained to look away. Thom's arms felt like lead already as he lifted his shield to deflect a blow headed for Kaitala's left side, and barely side-stepped the thrust of a different elf's following sword. Kaitala used the brief opening between Thom and his attacker to slice in, and the elf grunted as her sword scored a gash in the side of his armor.

Thom glanced briefly at Kaitala and she nodded, and suddenly, silently, they had a plan. She shifted so her left side was more open, an invitation the elves would not be able to resist, unprotected as it was. Another of the elves lunged for her and Thom slammed his shield into the elf, trusting Kaitala would cover his back as he did so. Behind him he heard a sharp cry and when he spun to check, the previously injured elf was on the ground, gripping his stomach with both hands.

Thom repositioned and he and Kaitala parried away the remaining four swords that lightly tested them, looking for weaknesses. They wouldn't fall for that ploy again, but having even one elf down felt like breathing room.

There was a sharp cry in the darkness at the edge of the wood and Varric hissed out, “take THAT” from somewhere near the boulder. Another elf down, then. Thom sliced sharply down with his sword as one of the elves stepped closer, and when the elf took the bait and went straight in for his chest, Thom bulled his shield around clockwise, catching the blade and slamming the hard metal edge into the elf's face, breaking her nose. She screamed and fell back, one hand pressed against her face, the other still holding the sword. Thom had to respect that.

He and Kaitala spent a long minute exchanging half-hearted blows with the other three elves, and he managed to get a look at the others. Varric had somehow climbed atop the huge boulder and was shooting bolts into the darkness, keeping the elves' archers engaged. In the firelight, Thom saw Cassandra and Cullen had Dagna surrounded, but all three were bleeding from shallow cuts. Two elves lay dead at their feet, but they still had five pressing their advantage. Thom couldn't see much beyond that except for the occasional flash of Dorian's staff attacks lighting up Bull's huge horns. Underneath it came the growling and snapping of Calenhad's huge jaws. Then one of Thom's elves scraped the sharp edge of his longsword along Thom's right hip, slicing a painful cut through the leather there and into his skin. Thom bit down on his tongue to smother his cry of pain, and took a step towards the elf instead of away, briefly putting him on the defensive as he rained down angry blows, using his weight and size advantage to press him back until Thom managed to return a deep hit on the elf's sword arm.

Thom felt Kaitala's presence at his back again and then she spun around him and pierced her sword through the elf's chest, using the elf's sudden slowness from his wound to her advantage. The elf stared down at the sword in his chest and grabbed it with both hands. Kaitala pulled it back out, slicing the elf's hands as she did so, and the elf dropped to the ground. The elf with the broken nose screamed once, a noise of intense rage, and rushed Kaitala's left side, just as the other two elves headed for her right. Thom stepped in front of broken nose elf and went low, cutting her leg out from underneath her. Kaitala cried out as one of the other two elves caught her with his weapon, and when Thom turned he saw she had a dagger stuck in her right shoulder.

Then lightning cracked from the trees behind Kaitala and arced over Cassandra and she screamed, going rigid in its grip.

“They've got a mage!” Cullen cried.

“I've got her!” Leliana called back from somewhere near Dorian and Bull.

Thom and Kaitala's two elves split into one-on-one with them, and Thom tried to blink away the echo of white light in his eyes to see what was happening. He felt more than saw the first attack and managed to get his shield up in time to block it, but the elf quickly followed and managed to slice a thin cut along Thom's leg.

More lightning shot from the forest, reflecting too brightly off of the boulder. Thom saw Varric illuminated against the night, his face contorted with rage and terror before he leapt from the top towards the ground.

Thom's elf took his distraction and pierced the meaty part of Thom's upper shield arm. Thom did cry out then, his shield falling to the ground. Now he and Kaitala both were armed with only their swords. Thom kicked out, catching the elf in the ankle, and then he shifted so he and Kaitala were back-to-back again, their bodies almost touching.

There were more screams now, mostly the unfamiliar voices of the elves. Thom couldn't see Cassandra at all. An explosion went up near Dagna and another of their elves fell smoldering to the ground. Another arc of magic seemed to start from the woods before suddenly dissipating, followed by Leliana's pained cry.

Thom tested his elf's shield, hacking hacking hacking, using the desperation running through him to try to overwhelm the elf. They couldn't let this battle linger any longer. Thom's left arm hung, throbbing, at his side, and every step sent fresh bolts of agony through his injured hip. Kaitala had left the dagger in her shoulder but from the corner of his eye he saw how slowly she moved, the effort it took to defend her elf's advances. Thom roared and gripped his sword with both hands, slicing huge chunks of wood off of the shield, battering the elf down through pure strength of will. And then suddenly he stopped, spun on his heel, and charged straight for the elf fighting Kaitala. It was completely unexpected, and an absurd choice to gift his own attacker a free shot at his back, but he counted on that absurdity to buy him the time he needed. Thom came in fast around Kaitala's left side, and she turned and brought her sword up to block the other elf's attack on Thom's back just as he barreled into her elf and they both went rolling to the ground. He heard the guttural cry of his attacker as Kaitala's sword gutted him, and then Thom pushed himself to his feet and met Kaitala's opponent, dazed from the unexpected body slam, with a blow from above, slicing his sword down through the neck and nearly severing the head entirely.

Thom, chest heaving, left his sword in the elf's body and grabbed one of the dropped longswords, turning to gauge the situation. Cullen was facing off against one last elf on their side, and even as Thom watched he took the elf down with a messy but effective hit to the sternum. A bolt appeared in the elf's head and Thom saw Varric, standing over Cassandra's body. Calenhad lunged for the elf's body and by the time he lifted his muzzle, it was red with blood. Just past them, Dorian's staff flashed blue and the last of their attackers fell to the ground as well.

Kaitala rushed to Cassandra, kneeling at her side. “Where are the healing potions?” she called out.

“You can't,” Dagna said. “The stimulant.” The dwarf kneaded her hands nervously together, backing away from the group. “I'm sorry, it couldn't be made any other way. I'm sorry, I'm sorry.”

Thom looked around but couldn't find Sera anywhere. His heart raced, looking for her in the splay of elvish bodies, but none of them were hers. “Where's Sera?” he called to the others.

“She went into the woods, after we heard Leliana,” Bull said. “I'll find her.”

“I'm here,” came Sera's voice. “But I could use some help.” She shuffled slowly out of the darkness into the dim edge of the firelight's reach. Thom and Bull both hurried towards her, and as she took another step, Thom saw she was dragging Leliana. “I couldn't carry her,” she said, her voice thick with regret.

Bull, less injured than Thom, got there first and easily lifted Leliana into his arms. He muttered something in Qunari. When Thom finally limped over, Bull shook his huge head once, his face drawn.

“Dammit.” Thom sighed, then turned to Sera, looking her up and down. “Are you all right?”

“'m fine,” she mumbled. “I didn't get to her in time, I tried-”

“Shhh,” he said, pulling her close. “It's not your fault.”

Sera shoved him away. “Piss off,” she snapped. “I should've gotten after the mage with her. I could've helped, I could've...” She shoved him again, and once more. “I could've.” Her shoving turned to the stuttered beat of her fists on his chest, and then stopped. She pressed her face into his shoulder. “Fucking piss-drinking, shit-eating, _bastard_!”

Thom wrapped his arm around Sera and led her back to the group, who were still ranged in a tight circle around Cassandra. Varric was kneeling at the Seeker's side, holding her hand. Kaitala looked up as they approached, saw Leliana limp in Bull's arms, and her face twisted with grief.

“Maker,” Cullen breathed, approaching them. “Someone get her a potion!”

“It won't help,” Bull said, his deep voice unnaturally subdued as he gently lay her body on the ground near the campfire. “She's gone.”

“What about Cassandra?” Thom asked.

“Alive,” Kaitala said. “But she's badly injured. She needs _something_ , but Dagna said no healing potions.”

Sera looked up, eyes wide. “Where is she? Where's Widdle?”

Thom looked around. “She was just here, I saw her before you showed up.”

“I'm here,” Dagna said from behind Thom. When they turned, he heard several low curses, and Sera had her bow nocked and ready almost immediately. Behind Dagna, pressing a slender, razor sharp knife to the dwarf's throat, was a vaguely familiar female elf. Calenhad growled low and long, his fur standing on end.

“Let her go,” Sera said. Her voice was as dark as Thom had ever heard, and though he could see the fear in her eyes, her strong hands were steady on her bow.

“Put your weapons down first,” the woman said, shifting Dagna to almost entirely shield herself.

Thom saw Sera's fingers tighten on the bow and she pulled the string back slightly, ready. Dagna was white-faced and silent. Her hands were tight around her elvish captor's forearm. The knife didn't move an inch.

Kaitala stood and pushed through to the front, leaving Sera a path to shoot. “Briala. What do you want?”

“I want to help you.”

“By putting a knife at her throat?” Sera asked.

“You would have immediately killed me otherwise.”

“What do you want?” Kaitala repeated.

“I want to help you stop Fen'Harel.”

Thom saw Kaitala shift. “Why would you do that?”

“I want what's best for the elves, and that does not include the destruction of the world.” She shifted her hand a little, and the point of the knife pressed a small shadow into Dagna's throat. Next to Thom, Sera pulled her bowstring tighter and hissed. “I will tell you everything if you put your weapons down. And away from you.”

“It's a bloody trap,” Sera said. “There's probably more elves in the woods waiting for us.”

“We've gotta do something,” Varric said. “Cassandra needs help.” Thom glanced over, saw the dwarf was pressing his hand against one of the slowly seeping wounds on her chest.

“Even if there are elves hiding, what good would that do _me_? I gain nothing by this, except a chance to talk with you. Every other option is my death.”

There was no response for several endless seconds. Thom judged their chances of getting out alive if there _were_ more elves hiding. Two of their members were down and the rest of them were in various states of injury, and all were exhausted. Kaitala still had the dagger sticking out of her shoulder, blood dripping down her arm and into the ground at an increasingly alarming rate. His own hip burned, as did his shield arm. The only way any of them would survive this was if Briala was telling the truth. The crickets, deciding it was safe again, took up the cree-cree of their calls.

“Put down your weapons,” Kaitala said, laying her own sword at her feet. The rest of them stood unmoving until Thom threw the elf's sword down into the churned up dirt at his feet. Everyone else followed, taking more care in setting their weapons down, until only Sera remained with her bow drawn tight. Her arms started to tremble.

“Sera,” Thom said, his voice quiet. “I know what you're feeling, and if it were Kaitala she had, I'd do the same. But you'd tell me I was being a fool if I did.”

“Bugger off,” she said.

He turned to face her and laid his hand on her slender wrist. “You can't save her this way.”

She drew the bow another inch, the creak of the wood loud in the night. Then she shifted her bow and fired into the dark woods with a yell. “Flaming fucking shit turds!” She threw her bow on the ground. “There. Happy?”

Thom squeezed her shoulder. “I'll hold her down for you if she so much as scratches Dagna.”

Briala laughed dryly. “That won't be necessary,” she said, moving her dagger away. “Run back little dwarf.”

Dagna, looking annoyed, did run back, straight into Sera's arms. They kissed, hard and long, and then Sera pulled away and searched Dagna all over, touching her face and hair and every part of her body that wasn't covered by leather armor. “If that pile of rat piss hurt you-”

“I'm fine,” Dagna said on a choked laugh. “I'm fine!” She kissed Sera again. “I'm sorry I got caught.”

Sera shook her head. “You stop that. It's not your fault she's a slimy, cheating piece of shrunken donkey balls.”

“Now what?” Kaitala asked.

Briala resheathed her dagger. “You help your friend. And then we talk.”

“Thom,” Kaitala glanced his way. “How badly injured are you?”

He wished he were ten years younger, when even injuries like this wouldn't have slowed him down. “Fairly. Couple of deep wounds.”

She nodded. “Bull?”

“I can manage, boss. What do you need?”

“Watch Briala while the rest of us get some healing. Take her weapons.”

Bull cracked his knuckles, loud. “With pleasure.”

“It's not necessary.” Briala walked towards him, her features calm and composed. “But I understand.” She handed over her dagger, and another knife hidden in her boot.

“Cullen, send Calenhad with him.” Kaitala turned, and Thom saw her face was ashen. “I should probably get this dagger taken care of,” she said, before dropping to one knee. Thom limped to her side and groaned as he knelt next to her.

“What a pair we are,” he said, breathing hard.

“We can't survive another attack like that,” she said, her voice pitched for him only.

“I know.”

Dorian arrived at their side, holding out a potion. “Let me remove this dagger and you can take this immediately after. Rainier, you and Cullen will need to share another potion, if you can?”

Half a potion would heal him enough to be functional at least. He nodded. “How many do we have left?”

“After this one and the one Cullen has, four. Cassandra will survive without one for now, but she'll need one as soon as it's safe.”

“Three left,” Kaitala said. Her voice was weakening.

“Pull the dagger, Dorian, quickly,” Thom said. He held the potion for Kaitala. She braced her arm against him, her face tight. Dorian yanked the dagger out, and Kaitala cried out once, sharp as glass shattering, and her fingers went slack against Thom's chest. Thom lifted the potion to her lips. “Drink up, love.” He forced the first few drops into her mouth as her eyes fluttered closed, and then she swallowed and actively drank the rest. When the potion was empty Thom threw the bottle aside and held her up, his arm screaming at him. After a minute, Kaitala steadied in his arms and then opened her eyes.

“Better,” she said. “Thank you.”

“Your turn, Rainier,” Cullen said, coming over with his own half-full potion. His face was a mess of blood and dirt, and his armor showed a gap in the thigh where his wound had been.

Thom finished off the potion, felt his shoulder and hip both throb as the healing concentrated there. It felt like sunlight burning at the edges of the wounds, wrapping the skin towards itself, but instead of the feeling of tightly healed skin he normally would've experienced with a full dose, he felt better but still achy and raw, a little slow.

He stood and tested his full weight on his hip. It twinged, but dully. Kaitala had moved next to Leliana's body, with Cullen joining her. Varric and Dorian were crouched over Cassandra, patching her up while she was still unconscious, so Thom gathered up all of the weapons, theirs and the elves', and sorted everything into piles. One of the elves had a healing potion that Thom handed to Dagna for safe-keeping. “You ok?” he asked her.

She nodded. Sera was with Leliana's body now, too, patting Kaitala gently on the back. “I think she's more messed up by it than I am.”

Thom grunted. “Seeing the life of the woman you love at the whim of some madman? And you can't do anything about it? It's not a good feeling.”

“I guess you're pretty familiar with that,” Dagna said, looking up at him.

“More than I'd like.”

“Anything I can do to help her?”

He wanted to tell her to stay out of trouble, but it didn't feel right. He watched Kaitala wipe tears away and stand to hug Cullen, then Sera. “Be patient with her,” he finally said. “Don't let her worry you into inaction, but be patient.”

“We worry too, you know.” She gently poked the tender rawness of the wound in his arm. “We're not the only ones who get hurt.”

Thom huffed out a breath. “I suppose you're right.”

“Too bad about Lady Nightingale. I didn't really know her, but Sera admired her. She's been running the Jennys using some of what the Lady taught her.”

“Really?” Thom blinked. Even in death, Leliana had secrets. He regretted he'd spent so many of their years together avoiding her. He remembered their conversation around the campfire just outside of Denerim. “She loved Sera's practical jokes at Skyhold.”

Dagna giggled. “Sera will love to hear that. She always thought Lady Nightingale barely tolerated her. I should go tell her. Might ease the sting.” She squeezed Thom's hand and then walked off.

By Leliana, Sera hugged Cullen, who looked surprised by the act, and then grateful. Thom watched Kaitala walk over to Cassandra and talk quietly with Dorian and Varric there before coming back to him. Her eyes were red.

“I'm sorry, love,” he said.

She nodded and bent to press her forehead to his. “She shouldn't have died here,” she whispered. Her breath was warm and sweet against his face. “I should have left on my own.”

“Then you'd be dead now and Solas would have your hand. She knew – we all know – the risks. Her death isn't on you, it's on Solas.”

Kaitala pulled back enough to stare into his eyes, searching for something. “When the time comes, Thom, you have to let me finish this.”

Thom's heart stuttered. “Kaitala-”

“I won't run off. I can see now that would never work. But if we make it, I'm the only one who can stop him.”

“You don't know that.” She just stared at him. She knew. They both knew. Thom looked away. “I can't make that promise,” he said quietly. “You know that, too.”

“If there's no other way?”

Thom could barely consider it, but the alternative was unthinkable. He remembered Leliana's words at the inn and prayed it wouldn't come down to that. “If there was no other way.”

Kaitala smiled, a ghost that was there and then gone. “I knew that, too.” She kissed him gently and when she pulled back, wiped at fresh tears on her cheeks. “Let's get this over with.”

She straightened and somehow, in the way she'd mastered as Inquisitor, he saw her draw herself up and inward, until she looked more an imposing statue than a person. He followed behind her as she stalked to where Briala sat next to the campfire, looking unperturbed with Bull looming behind her and Calenhad sitting a few feet away. Cullen, Sera, and Dagna stayed with Leliana's body a short distance away, and Varric and Dorian had just finished moving Cassandra closer to the warmth. Cassandra was pale and her eyes were closed, but Thom could see her breathing steadily, the poultices they'd applied to her visible wounds moving up and down in a smooth rhythm.

Kaitala towered over Briala's slender form, the firelight dancing across her scored and dirty armor. “Get up.” Briala looked up, and Thom saw a flash of nerves in her eyes as she stood. “Your people killed my friend,” Kaitala continued. “Why shouldn't I repay the favor?”

“You'll never make it to Fen'Harel without me.”

“How can you help us?”

“You're heading for the stairs to the Undercroft, yes?” Thom glanced at Dagna and saw her frown. “It's a smart move. Fen'Harel does not expect that, and you would have made it if not for the Eluvian nearby. That's how we got to you so quickly. Fen'Harel has sent large groups like this out of the Eluvians he's moved nearby, and he is marshaling more forces as we speak, ready to send them if he doesn't hear back soon from each group.”

“Did you lead this group to us?”

“No. I'm supposed to be overseeing the front lines at Skyhold. I guessed you were taking this route when we heard news of the last elves you slaughtered.”

“ _They_ attacked _us_ ,” Thom interrupted.

“That may be, but you killed every last one, did you not? Even though you had to know they were not nearly as well-trained. But I would expect no less from you, Thom Rainier.”

Thom started forward, then stilled when Kaitala held out a hand.

“I still don't see how you can help. One person isn't going to change our odds against a large enough attack. If Solas doesn't know about the steps, then our plan is still good, and it just gives me more reason to make sure you won't betray us.”

“Even if you could outrun the forces Fen'Harel is certain to send after you, and the Qunari that are only a few hours behind even now, you would never make it into the Undercroft. Fen'Harel has set up a magical ward all around it while he performs his ritual. The only way in and out is if you have the password. And there are guards surrounding it. You would never survive, and then he would have the last piece he needs to pull down the Veil.”

“Why are you helping us? Solas clearly trusts you. Why would you turn on him?”

Briala stared down into the campfire. It snapped loudly, lit her pensive face. “Fen'Harel told me he wished to save Elvenkind. When I knew him to truly be the Dread Wolf, I leapt at the chance to help him. Your people,” she looked around at them, “humans and dwarves and Qunari alike, have treated elves like trash in the streets for too long. Tucked us away in alienages, made us your servants, cared for us less than your precious dogs.” Her hands fisted at her sides. “Fen'Harel promised that Elvhenan would rise again, that he had the magic to do it. He did not tell us what it would be. I would not have thought to question it, even, unless...” Briala swallowed. “I discovered that he killed someone dear to me, for helping me. And then I found books he had hidden away, that talked of what really happened when the Evanuris walked our world. That elves had been no better to other elves than the _shem_. That he, the Dread Wolf, had destroyed his own civilization by raising the Veil.” She raised her chin, stared hard at Kaitala. “It was easy to determine what his plan was, especially knowing he needed the Inquisitor's hand. I am the one who sent it back out into the world for him, made sure the Red Jennys discovered it.”

Sera looked up when she heard the Jennys, and her lips pulled back in a snarl. Kaitala shook her head gently.

“Why not let him destroy the Veil? Elves might survive.”

“They won't. Even if the rending of the Veil itself does not, the chaos of the aftermath will kill most. And there will be nothing to stop the Evanuris from making all of the city elves that remain their slaves once more. There will be wars between the Dalish and the city elves to determine who is more “true” elf. I don't understand why Fen'Harel doesn't see this.”

“He does,” Thom said. “He just doesn't care.”

“He did all of this for his people,” she protested. “He believes he is trying to help us now.”

“No,” Kaitala said, her voice soft, steady. “It's as you said: he's trying to help _his_ people, the elves from his time. He sees the world only as it was, and what it has become he only regrets. He thinks that anything would be better than this.”

Briala took a deep breath and nodded. “That is why I must stop him. But he's too powerful for me to even get close. Only you, bearing your hand, can do that, Inquisitor. But I can get you to him.”

“You have a plan?”

“Of course.” Briala gestured at the ground. “If I may? I can draw it out in the dirt.” Kaitala assented, and Briala picked up a stick off the ground, started drawing lines and marks on the ground. Everyone moved closer to get a better look.

“The Eluvian nearby leads to the Crossroads, and from there to the Eluvian in Skyhold. I can take you as my prisoner, Inquisitor, and misdirect the guards to chase after your companions. Once we signal your companions that it is safe, they can take care of whoever is left, and I will lead us through the Crossroads. On the other side, in Skyhold, there are no guards in the Eluvian room. Skyhold itself is protection enough. We will need a distraction, that I may get you safely to the Undercroft. After that, it will be up to you.”

“Sera, what do you think?”

“I know all of Skyhold's bum. Me and Widdle can get you your distraction. You have any explodeys left?” she asked Dagna.

“Just two, but they're big ones.”

“Perfect,” Kaitala said. “What kind of guards are with Solas, Briala? What exactly is he _doing_?”

“There are a handful of guards in the main hall, leading to the Undercroft. Every time I've gone down to talk to him, he's alone on the other side of the ward. He was preparing things, mixing items in a cauldron, casting spells, writing runes on the walls and the floor. The last time I spoke with him was a few days ago, and he was standing in the middle of the room, chanting. I wasn't even sure he could hear what I said, except he answered all of my questions. But he looked different. Drawn. Distracted. Whatever he's doing has taken most of his will. Now is the time to strike.”

“Calenhad, guard her. Everyone else,” Kaitala motioned for them to join her a short distance from Briala. Thom moved so he could keep an eye on the elf. The mabari hovered so close to her, Thom could see his breath moving her hair every time he panted.

“Thoughts?” Kaitala asked, once they were grouped in a tight circle.

“I say we kill her and stick to our plan. She's a knob. I don't trust her,” Sera said, glaring back over her shoulder.

“It does seem suspicious,” Cullen agreed. “This whole thing could just as easily be walking you directly to Solas.”

“But why? Having me in the room with him is more dangerous than just taking the hand. And he doesn't seem to lack for forces to take it.”

“Her plan leads us straight into areas we haven't scouted first, she could have laid traps to kill us all and take the hand before you even get to him,” Bull said. “Still, it would be a big risk on his part if he could just send a couple more bands like this last one to take us out. What does he care about their deaths?”

“Dorian? Dagna? What do you think?”

The mages glanced at each other. Dagna shrugged. “I know I could fix those steps, but I probably can't break down a demigod's magic ward.”

“I think we're in a big pile of shit,” Dorian said. “And when you're in a pile of shit, you take the best shovel you've got. If what she says is true, then Briala is our best shovel.”

“We'd be putting a lot of trust in someone we barely know,” Varric said. “And what about Cassandra? We can't just leave her here.”

“How long until she can have a healing potion?”

“A few more hours at least,” Dagna said. “To be safe.”

“We may not have the luxury of safety. Bull, could you carry her with you on your horse?”

“I could make it work. I thought I might take Leliana though.”

Kaitala glanced at the body, and Thom saw the wave of sorrow rip through her. “We should leave her here.”

“No,” Cullen said. “I'll take her.”

“And what are you going to do with her when we have to fight? When we get to Skyhold?” He glared, but had no answer. “She wouldn't have wanted us to endanger ourselves for that. We'll bury her here, we'll mark the grave, and we'll come back for her for a proper cremation. I swear it.”

Cullen closed his eyes, but nodded. Thom noticed the dark circles under his eyes, the way his shoulders were uncharacteristically slumped. They were all teetering on the edge of collapse, stretched to their breaking points. Would any one damn thing break their way?

“What do you think, Thom?”

Thom sighed. “I think there's too many things we don't know, either way. What we do know is there are Qunari behind us, a whole army of elves in front of us, and too many days left to walk to the stairs. I'm fucking tired,” he said, saw several of the others agree. “I say we take Briala's shitty shovel and get this done, to borrow Dorian's point.”

“And strangle it,” he muttered.

Kaitala strode back to Briala. “You don't get your weapons back.”

“I would do the same in your position. You have very little reason to trust me.”

“I have no reason to trust you.” Briala shrugged elegantly. “How long until we need to leave?”

“The Qunari are not far behind you. You have little time to rest here. And if the elves guarding the Eluvian don't stumble across them, then they will likely find a way to follow us.”

“That would be one hell of a distraction,” Thom murmured.

“Agreed. But there's no way to let them follow us safely.” Kaitala looked to Bull, who nodded in agreement with her.

“Too risky. The Ben-Hassrath won't want to jump into any Eluvians willy-nilly, and if we let them get too close, that's a battle we don't have the time or energy to fight.”

“Then let's hope the elves find them.” Kaitala sighed. “We take care of Leliana first, and then we go.”

Thom examined the group, saw the weariness and wounds on each of their bodies. They needed time, healing, a good night's sleep. A chance to mourn. They'd get none of those things. His own body felt leaden with exhaustion, but he forced himself to grab his camp shovel and start digging.

 

* * *

 


	11. Chapter 11

While Calenhad, Dorian, and Varric guarded Briala and Cassandra, Thom, Cullen, and Sera dug a grave for Leliana by lantern light. Kaitala got Bull and Dagna to help her break camp and drag the bodies into a pile and search them for any other healing potions or useful items. Dagna grabbed arrows from the archers and a handful of small purses filled with magic supplies from the mage. But no other potions to be found. They were still at four, three once Cassandra could take one. An entire army to get through and no sign of rest.

Kaitala rubbed the end of her left arm. It had been itching for an hour, a constant buzz in the back of her mind. She wasn't sure if it was the concentration of Dread Wolf sigils or something else, but her whole body was on edge with it. She couldn't stand still but she was too tired to move, so she rubbed her arm over and over and tried to breathe.

“You okay?” Bull asked, walking by her with a rolled up tent under each arm.

“Nervous, I think,” Kaitala said. “I want this to be done.”

“ _Shanedan_.” He shifted the tents to re-grip them. “Soon, boss. And then you can go back to your farm with Rainier.”

She felt herself smile automatically and it seemed to be enough to convince Bull because he kept moving to load the horses. Kaitala had given up on returning to their farm the afternoon she and Thom had ridden away from it. Her arm itched where her hand used to be. She stared down at the empty space until the feeling receded.

She packed saddlebags, made sure the horses had water, spent time rubbing Anaan's soft nose. She wondered if Thom would keep Anaan, when this was all done. Where they would put her memorial stone. Who would tell her parents. She believed Cassandra and Varric would watch over Thom, whose own family had died years ago. Varric could put him up in the manor in Kirkwall, keep him from being alone. Her heart beat hard and painful in her chest, thinking of Thom sitting by himself in the dark, drinking his way to his own death. He'd been so invigorated by his work around Thedas. Traveling with him to prisons and asylums had transformed her, too, watching the way he connected with people who'd lost all hope, all belief in their own humanity. She would hate for him to lose that because of her.

Dagna and Bull shared a quiet word together and then both laughed, the sound bright in the dark night. Varric held Cassandra's hand, and a gentle breeze carried the easy back and forth between Thom and Sera as they finished covering the grave. Kaitala prayed to Andraste that she would be the only one left who died.

Cullen stretched and waved to her. “We're ready,” he called softly.

Kaitala alerted the others, gestured for Briala to join them as well. They left Cassandra resting at the fireside with Calenhad lying next to her, and gathered around the shallow grave. It was a low hill of stones and branches to protect Leliana's body until they could come back and move her.

“Is there some sort of ritual we should follow?” Kaitala asked. She'd never been to a Chantry member's funeral before. When the Valo-Kas died, they all got the same mercenary send-off and the body disposed of according to that person's particular custom, or cremated if there were none specified.

“I think a few words and a prayer would be enough,” Cullen offered. “Once we return her body for a true funeral, Chantry priests can say more.”

“I wish Cassandra was able to do this,” Kaitala said. “She'd do it the justice it deserves.” She paused, considering what to say. Kaitala was more comfortable leading people into battle than this sort of event. It had irritated Josephine constantly when she would try to back out of giving speeches at diplomatic dinners. But Leliana had earned the best Kaitala had. And she figured she wouldn't get a chance to speak at Leliana's true funeral. “Leliana was one of the first of you that I met, right after the explosion. She was loyal and smart and helpful, even if we sometimes butted heads. She worked hard for the betterment of others and never stopped relentlessly doing everything she could to bring peace to Thedas. She was also ultimately a friend. I know much of what happened with the Divine hurt her. My prayer is that she's at peace now. Her sacrifice to stop Solas will not be forgotten.”

There were slight nods around the grave.

“In the Maker's name,” Cullen said quietly. Thom echoed it.

“Ah, Nightingale,” Varric sighed. “None of these other fools are going to appreciate wine with me the same way. I'll miss you.” He bent to touch the small pile of stones they'd set at the head of the grave.

Sera went up and laid a gold coin on top of the pile. “You were right,” she said. “You always did win our bets.”

“Maker protect you,” Thom said. “I'm sorry we didn't get to know each other better. Thank you for giving me a proverbial smack on the head.” Kaitala glanced at him, but he just smiled.

Everyone fell silent. Kaitala wondered if they should put Leliana's bow on the grave and saw Bull was holding it in one big hand. Briala cleared her throat. “The Qunari are not far behind us,” she reminded them.

Bull stepped forward and laid the bow on top of the grave. “ _Shok ebasit hissra. Meraad astaarit, meraad itwasit, aban aqun. Maraas shokra. 1_”

“ _Vitae benefaria 2_, Leliana.” Dorian pressed his fingers to his lips, and then pressed his fingers to the small stone pile.

Cullen knelt at the stone pile. “I will miss our arguments,” he said with a soft smile. “You and Josephine together were unstoppable. I will let her know what happened. And Charter, Harding, and the others. Though if I know you, you'll somehow have alerted them before I get the chance. You were always at least two steps ahead of me.” He pressed his knuckle to his forehead and bowed his head. Calenhad whined softly from next to Cassandra. When Cullen stood, Kaitala nodded.

“Time betrays us,” she said. “We have to go.”

Kaitala returned to the campfire, waited until Bull had picked up Cassandra, and then she kicked dirt on the fire until it flickered and died.

The rode out with Briala behind Kaitala on Anaan and the others following in a line after them. They were silent as the horses walked through the thinning forest. The moon was nearly full this evening and through the sparse foliage it lit their path enough to travel safely. Kaitala had lost all sense of time, was half-surprised when they started out and she calculated it was only a couple of hours past midnight. The two weeks of being constantly on the run were catching up to her, and she hoped she could outrun the fallout as much as the Qunari.

The silence gave Kaitala plenty of time to consider what lay ahead, and by the time Briala pressed her hand against Kaitala's shoulder and whispered, “stop here,” just over an hour later, she knew what had to come next. The group clustered together.

“The Eluvian is in a cave a short distance away.”

“Already?” Kaitala said. They never would have been able to outrun Solas' army with the Eluvian this near. “Sera, scout ahead and see who's waiting for us.”

“Right, back in a jiff.” Sera dismounted and disappeared into the shadows of the forest on silent feet.

After a minute, Kaitala looked to the others. The low moonlight washed them all out, making them look like ghosts of themselves. “I've been thinking,” she said, keeping her voice low.

“Ah, here it is,” Dorian murmured.

Kaitala frowned at him. “We need to split up. _Listen_ ,” she snapped as they all started to speak at once. “Cassandra isn't ready for a potion, and someone will need to stay behind with her. Once we get into Skyhold, a large group is a danger, not a benefit. Sera and Dagna can cause a distraction, and I can go with Briala. Thom will come with me,” she said, cutting off his protest, “as insurance against traps. But either he will be enough, or none of you will. We're walking directly into Skyhold. If it comes down to numbers, Solas wins.”

“I hate this plan,” Dorian said. “But I can't argue against it, either. Damned annoying, Kaitala.”

Cullen looked like he wanted to argue, his jaw a firm and unyielding line, but he gripped his horse's reins and remained silent. When Kaitala looked to Varric, the dwarf just shrugged.

“I'm with Sparkler: I don't like it, but it makes a really obnoxious amount of sense.”

Bull shifted Cassandra in his arms, rested her head against his thigh. “She's gonna be pissed at you when she wakes up.”

“I'll deal with that after we defeat Solas,” Kaitala said, wanting to laugh and cry. “You have all pushed yourselves beyond what anyone could ask for. I could never have made it this far without you. Not just Solas, but all of it. Corypheus, the Qunari, even running the Inquisition. Thank you.”

Dorian's brows lifted. “That sounds less like a 'thank you' and more like a 'goodbye,' darling.”

“Goodbye for now,” she said, but even she heard the weak belief in her own words.

“What's this then? Everyone looks so serious,” Sera said, sliding next to Anaan. She glanced at their faces, and her smile died. “Oh balls, what now?”

“We're splitting up,” Kaitala said. “You and Dagna come through the Eluvian with me and Thom. Everybody else takes Cassandra and our horses and heads northwest.”

“I'd be plenty buggered about that, too, but you kept me so 'm good.”

Cullen rolled his eyes. “What did you find?” he asked.

“One very bored looking elf, two sleeping elves, and a big sparkly mirror.”

Briala leaned around Kaitala to address the group. “Those are the messengers waiting to return to Skyhold with news. They will be simple to dispose of.” Kaitala frowned. The elf's easy willingness to kill her own comrades was unnerving.

“No spiders?” Dagna said hopefully.

“Not a one.”

“We've been patrolling this area for weeks,” Briala said. “Have you been attacked by any bears? Dracos? We have taken care of all of them. There are only elves in these woods. And now there is only us.”

“Where are the other two groups that went out?”

“One went north of you, the other south. They were given orders to go out for a full day and then return the next. You have time.”

“Can the Dread Wolf sigils reach this far from the cave? Do the messengers already know I'm here?”

“The sigils could sense you, faintly, but the messengers do not have them. Only those sent out to find, and fight, you.”

“And what happens if they stumble on my friends and I'm not with them?”

Briala hesitated. “Fen'Harel's orders were to do whatever it took to secure the hand. Translated to the scouting groups, they will all attack on sight. If you're not there, they may try to take your friends prisoner and try to use them as bargaining tools.”

“Then make sure you avoid them,” she said.

“Advice we didn't need,” Varric said with a quick grin.

“We should move before one of the other messengers awakes, or the Qunari are upon us,” Briala urged.

“Do any of you want more of the stimulant?” Kaitala asked. They all shook their heads.

“Maker, no,” Cullen said. “Reminds me too much of taking lyrium. I'll make it another day.”

“Then you better head out.” No one moved. “Please,” Kaitala said, feeling the word catch in her throat. “I need to know you won't be here.”

“As you wish,” Dorian said, bowing slightly from his saddle. “Remember what I told you,” he said to Kaitala. “Rainier,” he added. “Take care of yourself as well, yes? You are more than just 'Lady Adaar's Husband,' no matter what your stationary says. I'd hate to lose two of my closest friends without them knowing that.” Thom's dry laugh steadied Kaitala's heart.

Those heading to Skyhold dismounted. Kaitala clasped Cullen's hand, squeezed Bull's leg, and was just tall enough to give Varric an awkward hug when he leaned towards her. “Good luck with Cassandra,” she whispered to him. “Remember that she likes poetry, too.” He flushed but nodded.

The others clasped hands and said brief goodbyes as well. Kaitala rubbed Anaan's nose, found a carrot for him to eat. “Be good,” she warned him. “Or I'll haunt you from the spirit world.” He flicked one ear at her.

Dorian handed her two potions and the box, and she gave them to Thom to put in her pack. The weight shifted awkwardly on her back, the hard edge of the box pressing firm against her spine.

“Safe travels,” she told Dorian, gripping his slender hand.

He brought her hand up and kissed it. “We will see you again,” he promised.

Then Varric, Bull, Dorian, and Cullen turned their horses and headed towards the moon, leading Anaan, Oatsy, and the others by their reins. Anaan threw his head and looked back, but Kaitala clicked her teeth and shook her head, no, and the horse whuffed and kept walking. Calenhad followed behind them, a silent shadow. Kaitala would have watched until they all disappeared if Briala hadn't cleared her throat.

“They'll be better off than we will,” Sera said when Kaitala turned in the direction of the cave. “No caves, no angry elves, no fighting old elven gods. They'll probably even get to sleep.” There was a brief pause and then: “Shoulda gone with them.”

Kaitala smiled. “You're stuck with us.”

“Then let's cause some fucking damage, yeah?”

Briala directed them to the edge of the forest. There was fifty feet of clearing and then the dark mouth of a cave, with a small, red-orange light from the inside indicating the messengers' fire. No elves could be seen.

“They're all inside,” Sera whispered.

“I could take out the guard before the others even awaken,” Briala said.

“You're not getting your weapons back,” Kaitala said.

“At all?”

“We'll see.”

Briala frowned. “Then what do you propose?”

“Sera.”

The other elf nodded. “I could get the awake one easy. Might need help with the other two, though.”

“I've got your back,” Thom said.

Kaitala watched them creep towards the cave, the setting moon gilding Thom's armor in faint silver. Briala stood at Kaitala's side, leaning forward.

“I do not regret what we have to do here,” Briala said quietly. “But when all is done, remember how many elves answered Fen'Harel's call, Inquisitor. They will not go away when he does. When this is over, the elves, my people, will still deserve justice.”

“Then keep us alive long enough to help you get it.”

Briala met Kaitala's gaze. “I believe it is in you to try, at least.”

There were low, scuffling noises from the cave, a sharp cry abruptly cut off, and then silence. Thom emerged from the entrance and waved them in.

Briala, Dagna, and Kaitala hurried into the cave, found two of the elves still and glassy-eyed. They looked young. A third was curled into a ball on the ground, with Sera pointing an arrow at his head. Kaitala's stomach turned over.

“Kill him!” Briala hissed.

The elf looked up and his eyes went huge. “Lady Briala?” he whispered. “What's happening?”

Thom stepped to Kaitala's other side. “Sera got one and I got the other, but this one woke up and immediately fell to the ground and...” He looked pained. “Neither of us could do it.”

Kaitala felt a spiraling surge of rage for Solas leading them all here, but also for every minute of needless aggression against the elves that had led these three to follow Solas into destruction.

She felt a tug at her belt and saw Briala lunge forward. Kaitala grabbed Briala by the arm and slammed her into the wall of the cave, her head snapping back with a loud crack. The dagger dropped from Briala's fingers and Kaitala pressed her forearm into the woman's chest, holding her pinned against the hard stone. “What are you doing?” she hissed into Briala's face.

The elf's eyes rolled, tried to focus. “Needs done,” she slurred.

Kaitala pressed hard, felt the bones in Briala's chest shift under her weight and she forced herself to step back. Briala fell in a heap to the floor. “Not like this,” Kaitala said. She glanced at the messenger elf, who somehow looked even more terrified. “But what are we going to do with you?” she muttered.

“I have twine,” Dagna offered, pawing through her backpack. She pulled out a decent sized ball of it. “I've discovered it's really useful to have around.” When Kaitala nodded, Dagna handed the twine to Thom, who swiftly bound the elf's feet and hands behind his back.

“Keep quiet or we'll gag you, too,” Kaitala warned him.

“You are a fool,” Briala said. Her eyes were clear and the color had returned to her face, but she stayed curled on the ground. “He will turn on you the first second he can.”

“Sounds like somebody's projecting,” Sera sing-songed.

Kaitala frowned. “I'm not going to kill someone who surrendered at our feet.”

“He would kill you.”

The elf on the ground shook his head furiously.

“I'm going to trust my instincts on this one,” Kaitala said. “Like I'm going to trust my instincts about you.” She held out a hand to Briala.

She glared but took Kaitala's hand and allowed herself to be pulled up. “How did one so soft lead an entire army?”

“Bloody well,” Thom said.

Kaitala ignored both of them and moved to the Eluvian. It's face was dark and looked nothing more than a tall, ornately carved mirror in the firelight. “You have the key?”

Briala joined her and said “ _Asha'belannar 3_.” The Eluvian erupted with light. “You and I should go first, in case there are guards on the other side. I can tell them you are my prisoner, if you give me my knife.”

“Absolutely not,” Thom said.

“It is unreasonable to think I could bring all four of you. If there are guards, all of this is for nothing.”

“I could pretend to be one of the wanker's army,” Sera said. She stuck her tongue out. “Ugh I hate even saying that.”

Briala looked Sera up and down. “There are still three of them and two of us, even if one is a dwarf.”

“Hey!” Dagna said.

“What about him?” Kaitala said, pointing at the messenger.

Briala's startled laugh was sharp in the cave. “Are you mad? You want to trust an elf you just captured – were more than willing to kill until his weakness – to not ruin our entire plan?”

“It's not a great idea, but you expect me to trust _you_ , don't you?”

“Haven't I proven myself already?”

“Not as much as you think.” Kaitala ran her hand down the smooth wooden edge of the frame. In the bright light she could see now that the carvings were of long-necked dragons twining around each other while dracos snapped at their feet. Each scale was carved with what must have been infinite patience. “Does this connect directly to the other Eluvian?”

“No, it leads to the Crossroads, and the connecting Eluvian is a short distance away.”

Thom groaned. “Not the Crossroads again. Felt like my brain was doing somersaults last time we were there.”

“It was not built for you,” Briala said, lifting her chin. “It does not bother elves.”

“Bothers me,” Sera muttered.

Kaitala lifted her left arm and watched the light play over the leather-capped tip of her shirt. She looked back over her shoulder at their prisoner. “When are you expected to report back?”

“T-tomorrow,” he said, his voice a squeak. “No one is expected to return until tomorrow afternoon.”

“Do not forget the Qunari are still behind us,” Briala interjected.

“Will there be anyone on the other side?”

“In the Crossroads? No. Maybe in the transport room. I don't know.” The words tumbled out of him.

Kaitala nodded to herself and turned to face the group. “Briala and I will go alone.” Thom's jaw went rigid, but he remained quiet. “You'll get your knife back right before we go in the other Eluvian,” she told Briala. “And not a moment sooner.”

She moved to stand in front of Thom, pressed the round end of her left arm to his chest. “This won't be like last time,” she said, reassuring herself as much as him.

“You have until the count of three hundred and then I come in after you.”

“Deal.” She kissed him hard and quick. “Hold him to that,” she said to Sera, who flashed a grin in return. Kaitala returned to the Eluvian. “I'll go first.” As she stepped through the portal, she heard Thom starting to count.

Her body was sucked in, compressed, and then spit back out into a world familiar only in its unfamiliarity. All she could tell for sure was that this was a portion of the Crossroads. The air was a sickly yellow, the ground littered with rubble and some sort of spiky pink plant. Kaitala idly wondered how anything grew here in this space in-between. _Is this what the whole world will look like when the Veil is gone?_

Briala stepped through, looked around, and pointed to their left. “That way.”

Kaitala followed the elf, focusing on Briala's head as they walked. Whenever she looked elsewhere her eyes watered and her head ached. It was worse than last time they'd gone through and she wondered if that was because she didn't have the Anchor.

Briala curved around a large boulder and stopped short. “Who are you?” she demanded. Kaitala moved around her with her hand on the hilt of her sword.

A male elf stood next to the dark Eluvian, his empty hands held wide. “I mean you no harm,” he said. His gaze went to Kaitala. “Inquisitor Adaar.” He bowed and his shaggy white hair fell over his eyes. Or so she thought. When she quietly started to unsheathe her sword, he cleared his throat and said, “Please don't.” He straightened and she saw now in the pale light that he had what looked like veins of lyrium tracing complicated lines along his arms and up his neck. “My name is Fenris.”

“ _Hawke's_ Fenris?” Kaitala asked. Her body tensed, half expecting he would attack her in a fit of revenge.

Fenris went still. “The very same,” he said in a dark tone. He glanced at Briala. “Are you in trouble, Inquisitor?”

“Not from her,” Kaitala said. “What are you doing here?”

“The full answer is complicated. The simple answer is that I am waiting for you.”

“In the Crossroads? Did Solas send you?”

“Fen'Harel?” Fenris laughed dryly. “No. But someone else you know did. I'm to take you to her.”

“I'm not going anywhere but through that Eluvian.”

He pulled out a familiar looking necklace and held it out. “Morrigan suggested this would happen.”

“ _Morrigan_?”

Briala huffed. “We do not have time for this nonsense. We must get to Fen'Harel before we're discovered.”

Kaitala didn't disagree, but Morrigan could be a useful ally in this fight if Fenris were telling the truth. “Where is she?”

“In a place safe from Fen'Harel's attention.” He unsheathed his sword and laid it on the ground. “Take this as proof of my sincerity, and follow me.”

Kaitala felt the weight of Thom's countdown at her back. She bent and picked up the sword. “No. Get Morrigan and bring her through the Eluvian around that path,” she said, pointing the way they'd just come. “We'll be waiting for you there.”

Briala stepped forward. “Inquisitor-”

“Quiet,” Kaitala snapped. “You'll do as I order.” She threw the last at Fenris too, who pursed his lips but nodded.

“Very well. I will bring Morrigan to you. My sword?”

“I'll hold onto it for you.”

His arms tensed, and the veins there glowed brightly. “Very well,” he said again. His voice was as tightly coiled as his muscles.

Kaitala nudged Briala with her foot and they hurried back to the cave Eluvian. She waited for Briala's rebellion, but the elf followed silently and went through the portal first at Kaitala's gesture. Kaitala hurried after her. The portal spit her out to find Thom holding his sword at Briala's neck.

“Two hundred ninety-three,” he said, lowering his blade. “What happened?”

“We're going to have visitors.” Kaitala explained what had transpired in the Crossroads.

“Trusting another elf we don't know?” Thom asked.

“We know Morrigan. And we knew Hawke. Varric told me about Fenris and I trust Varric.”

“Who is this Morrigan?” Briala asked.

“Eugggghhhhh.” That was Sera. “A real witch, in every sense of the word.”

“She helped us defeat Corypheus. She drank from the Well of Sorrows to help us. She could help us again with that knowledge.”

“The _vir'abelasan_?” Briala looked horrified. “One elf has all the knowledge of Mythal's chosen?”

“She's not an elf,” Sera said cheerfully.

The blood drained from Briala's face. “A _human_?” she whispered. She shrank back against the wall of the cave and sank to her knees. Alarmed, Kaitala stepped towards her, but Briala hid her face and ground out, “leave me be.”

Thom shrugged and took Fenris' sword from Kaitala's hand. “Impressive blade,” he said. “You were wise to take it from him.”

“Once he's proven himself he can have it back.”

The Eluvian's face warped in on itself and hummed, and they turned to see Fenris jump through, then Morrigan. No one else followed.

“As you commanded, Inquisitor,” Fenris said. “My sword?”

Kaitala nodded at Thom, who handed it over hilt first. “Why the messenger?” she asked Morrigan.

“A pleasure to see you again, too, Lady Adaar,” Morrigan said dryly. “But I can see that, as always, you are full of questions and empty of diplomacy. Ah well. I have been keeping track of you, as much as I can from where I was. But I could not wait in the Crossroads. It is too dangerous for me.” She hesitated. “You recall the Well of Sorrows?”

Kaitala glanced at Briala, who was staring hatefully at Morrigan. “I do.”

“It...tied me to Mythal.”

“Mythal is alive?” Their elvish prisoner shifted onto his knees and swayed with his hands tied behind his back. “You have spoken to Mythal?”

Morrigan grimaced. “She spoke to me. You are lucky you didn't drink yourself, Lady Adaar. The exchange of knowledge goes both ways.”

“Is Mythal with Solas?”

“Not exactly. Solas took her power from Flemeth and claimed it as his own.”

Briala choked on a sob, and the prisoner looked like he would cry himself. “Not the Mother,” he whispered.

Kaitala frowned. If Solas had Mythal's power, and Mythal could read Morrigan's mind, then- Kaitala unsheathed her sword and pointed it at Morrigan's throat. “What do you want?” she hissed.

Morrigan lifted one eyebrow. “You figured that out quickly. Well done. But Solas has been far too busy looking for you to spend time on me.”

“What do you want?” she repeated.

“I want to help stop Solas.”

“Why now? If Solas knew you were here-”

“He doesn't. And if you'll give me some space, I can make sure that continues to be true for the time being.”

Kaitala glanced around the cave. Thom and Fenris were facing each other with swords drawn, Sera had her bow ready and an arrow pointed at Morrigan's heart. Dagna had something in her hand that Kaitala suspected she didn't want to see used in the confines of the cave. Briala was still hunched in the corner and the messenger elf was watching them all with wide, startled eyes.

“What will you do?”

“A protective ward,” Morrigan said. “Nothing more. It will shield us from Solas' probing and any physical attacks. I will have to concentrate to keep it up, which means I will not be able to cast any other spells. You'll be safe as houses, as the saying goes.”

“Dagna, keep an eye on her. If whatever she's doing doesn't look like a ward, Sera has my permission to shoot her.” Morrigan rolled her eyes.

“Sure thing, my lady.”

Kaitala lowered the tip of her sword to the ground and kept a close eye on Morrigan as she moved with smooth speed to cast the ward. Morrigan brought out chalk from a pouch and began reciting words Kaitala didn't understand. She drew lines around the cave and murmured and waved her hands over them in turn. Eventually Morrigan returned to the middle of the cave and lifted her voice and hands upward; the dark melody of her voice twirled up with the smoke of the slowly dying campfire. The only sound from Dagna was an impressed gasp. The area flashed blue and at the mouth of the cave Kaitala saw a faint shimmer of magical light. Beyond she could see dawn coloring the horizon gold. Morning, and they still hadn't slept.

“There,” Morrigan said. Her voice was steady but distant. “Ask me your mountain of questions.”

Kaitala willed her body to attention. Not knowing where to start, she asked what seemed the most obvious: “What are you doing here?”

“I'm here to help you.”

“Why now? Why not earlier?”

“What makes you think I haven't been helping this entire time?”

“You've done nothing,” she spit out.

“What of the box that holds the hand?”

“Ohhhhh,” Dagna breathed. “Of course. You built it. That magic is yours.” Dagna's eyes were like saucers.

Morrigan smirked. “See?”

“Can you destroy the hand?” Kaitala asked, feeling hope fluttering with weak wings in her heart.

The smirk died on Morrigan's lips, and with it Kaitala's hope. “No. The power of the Anchor is greater than any mortal's, even mine. But I do have a way for you to defeat Solas using that power.”

“We've already planned for that. Briala will get us to him and then I'll attack him with the hand,” Kaitala said.

“Mm. A very forthright plan, as I would expect from you.”

“It worked for Corypheus,” she muttered.

“Solas is nothing like Corypheus. Besides, the Anchor was a part of you then. If you go in holding it, you may as well just hand it to Solas and save yourself the trouble of fighting. If you could even control it in the first place.”

Kaitala ground her teeth. “We don't have any other options.”

“Which is why I came. I do not wish to see the Veil pulled down any more than you do.” Their elvish prisoner made a horrified noise that cut off abruptly when Morrigan turned to look at him. “Your god didn't tell you that, did he?”

“What's your plan? We tell all the elves following Solas and hope they turn on him?”

Morrigan turned back to face her. “Even if all of them did – and many would not – it would not be enough to stop him. No, my plan has an element I can see you never even considered, though I don't see why you would have. I have a spell that will attach your hand back to your arm, remade as though it had never left.”

Kaitala looked down at her left arm, swallowed hard against the knot in her throat. “How?”

“The hand wants to return, I will be giving it the path.”

Kaitala remembered the warehouse in Denerim, the way the energy had crawled up and held on like claws in her arm when Thom tried to pull it away. She remembered the distance, too, and the pain. “I'm not sure that will work. When I held it last it tried to take me over. It's different now. Not...me, anymore.”

“Then you will need to be strong. Strength is a quality which I know you have in abundance.”

She wanted to laugh but even that felt like too much effort. How could she fight off the hand and Solas when she could barely keep her head up? Thom had dark circles under his eyes and his face was pale with exhaustion; Sera and Dagna didn't look much better. Kaitala had never felt weaker in her life.

“If I agree, then I'll be able to wield the Anchor's power against Solas?”

“Perhaps.” Thom groaned. “That is not precisely how you will defeat him, though. You must take your fight to him in the Fade.”

“You want me to use the Anchor to rip a hole in the Fade? Didn't we learn that lesson with Corypheus?”

“Solas must be defeated on two fronts at the same time. With the ceremony he has spread himself between this world and the Fade, and defeating him in one area will only delay and not destroy him. 'Tis why Fenris and I reached an agreement. If I were to find you, he would fight Solas in the physical world, since I cannot because of the Well. With Rainier and the others, you'll be well-equipped on that side. But only you wielding the Anchor can truly defeat him in the Fade.”

“How are you so sure?”

“My dear, do you not know why Solas hasn't come for you himself? He's afraid of what you represent: concern for the non-elvish. He cares for you. It is his weakness, and is what will give you the moment to strike.”

“I'm supposed to use my friendship as a weapon?”

Morrigan's face was as unyielding as the stone around them. “To save Thedas? Yes.”

There were so many opportunities for failure, no matter which way they went. At least this would be a direct attack. Kaitala lifted her left arm and imagined what it would feel like to have that weight again. Losing her hand had shaken up everything she'd been and she'd reassembled herself and her life in ways that made her deeply happy. Would having her hand back bring back all of the parts of her past, too?

“There's nothing to fear, I am sure it will work,” Morrigan said, misreading Kaitala's hesitation. “We must get started at once though. I will need help getting the supplies together for the spell while I hold this one.”

“She hasn't agreed yet,” Thom said.

“She does not have many choices. The hand cannot be destroyed, so she must attack.”

“Can't you hide her? You hid the hand.”

“Yes, of course, why didn't I think of that? Probably because I can't put Kaitala _in a box_.” Morrigan waved the suggestion away like it was an annoying fly. “Any other brilliant ideas?”

“Why don't we just, you know, chuck the box into the sea and be done with it?” Sera asked.

“Too risky. Solas will only grow more powerful with time. He may not find it in your lifetime, but he will find it.”

“There has to be another way,” Thom said. “Dagna?” She shook her head, looking glum. “Briala, what about you? Fenris?” It was the desperation in Thom's voice that finally moved Kaitala to action.

“Thom,” she said quietly. “We have to do this. _I_ have to do this. It's up to me to end this. Even not knowing everything, we've always known that. Morrigan's plan gives me a chance to succeed.”

“Then I'll go with you into the Fade.”

“You will be of no help fighting him there. Besides, the use of the Anchor's power against Solas will kill you, if the journey to the Fade doesn't,” Morrigan said.

“And what about her?” Thom snapped. Morrigan simply looked at him, her silence the answer. Kaitala had to look away from the agony on his face.

Kaitala could feel fate's hand pushing her forward, but with it was a sudden release in her chest, as if she hadn't been able to fully breathe until this moment. Kaitala had been waiting for this since Thom had brought the box home. Maybe even since Solas had taken the Anchor from her two years ago. She glanced at Sera and Dagna who were holding hands and watching solemnly. She thought of their other friends, who'd joined her side eagerly and left it reluctantly only by her command; the Cornwalls who had built a life but still jumped to help her; of all the soldiers who had served the Inquisition, and all the citizens who had supported them. Fenris, who'd lost Hawke when she willingly sacrificed herself at Kaitala's word. And her parents, living the last of their years in the quiet town where she'd been born and who'd given her the skills that had gotten her here. To save all of them, her own life would be a small price, easily paid as long as she didn't think too long about Thom.

“I'll do it. What do we do?”

 

* * *

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1  
> Struggle is an illusion. The tide rises, the tide falls, but the sea is changeless. There is nothing to struggle against.  
> 2  
> A respectful goodbye  
> 3 The Woman of Many Years


	12. Chapter 12

Thom couldn't make out Morrigan's instructions through the pounding in his head. He stared around the cave, watched the line of rising sunlight slice through the magical barrier in a long, golden blade. A shadow flickered across it; birds, waking with the dawn. Around him the others moved at Morrigan's sharp commands.

His feet felt nailed to the floor. He should be helping, too – watching their prisoner or keeping an eye on either of their new elvish companions – not this useless mass of fear. What was to come would come, whether he willed it or not. He wouldn't burden Kaitala with his dread. She was the one who was shouldering the weight of Thedas. His body may be old and spent, but he could take these last steps with her and carry some of the load. As though breaking free of ice, Thom jerked and stepped towards Fenris and their prisoner.

The elvish prisoner was curled in on himself as much as he could with his hands and feet bound behind him. The confused distress on his face looked sincere, so Thom considered him a low threat and moved to Fenris, who was leaning against the cave wall looking bored. “Fenris, is it?” The elf raised an eyebrow but remained silent. “How did you come across Morrigan? She seems to flit about whichever way she pleases.”

“That is a good summation of how we met,” Fenris said, and then said no more.

Thom grunted. “Not the chatty sort?”

“No.”

“Seems to me there's no reason to not answer a friendly question.”

Fenris sighed. “Inquisitor Adaar trusts me, isn't that enough?”

“Let's just say I'm her pessimistic side.”

With what could only be called a growl, Fenris shoved off from the wall. “Do you have any food or drink at least?” he said, sitting down by the fire. They settled on rations and the last of the ale from the inn at Jader. It seemed a lifetime ago. Dagna bustled by behind them, murmuring to herself. “What do you need to know?”

“How you got here, and why. And no fancy answers, you know what I'm after.”

“Morrigan found me in the service of Fen'Harel.” He tugged down his shirt and Thom saw the sigil of the Dread Wolf. When Thom went for his sword, Fenris shook his head and took a long drink of ale, and the studied nonchalance of it stilled Thom's hand. He kept his sword sheathed, for now. “For that you can blame Varric. Some time after he sent word of...what happened to Hawke, he decided to follow up to make sure I was all right. Seemed to think I might have been recklessly endangering my life in my grief. He was right, of course.” Fenris cast a knowing glance at Thom. “Varric knew I needed a purpose to keep me going long enough to get through it. I'm sure you understand.”

“Varric wouldn't send you to Solas' side as an ally, he's been helping Kaitala fight him this whole time.”

“Indeed. He sent me to the spymaster, Sister Nightingale, and it was she that sent me to find out what I could about the elves and Solas. I was another tool in her toolbox. A good _use_ for me,” he said, his voice sharp with bitterness. “It took awhile but I found word of rebellion brewing amongst the elves of Kirkwall. From there I traveled with others to Haven and then to Skyhold. They've killed all of the Divine's forces you know?”

“I assumed. Were you part of that?”

“No. I came after Skyhold had been taken. I kept to the lower ranks, gathering information, trying to determine how to get that information safely back to Leliana. Once I'd joined the rebellion I'd cut off contact as agreed. I was waiting for the right time to get information to her.”

“You waited too long. She was killed last night,” Thom said.

Fenris nodded and the frown on his face was a jagged slash. “That is a shame. What I know did prove useful to Morrigan, though.”

“How did she find you? A single willing elf among hundreds?”

“Hundreds? More than that, human. Much more. I was not the first she had talked to, I was simply the last. Traitors to a cause always have some signs that can be read, if you look close enough. I did not expect Briala, though. She hid it well.”

“What happened to the others?”

“That you will have to ask Morrigan.”

“Why did you agree to help her?”

“Why wouldn't I? I joined to stop Solas, and she's a powerful witch doing just that.”

“It didn't break your agreement with Leliana?”

“We didn't have an agreement so much as she had a need that I could fill, as long as I could fill it in my own way. Besides, Morrigan's plan had the benefit of Inquisitor Adaar.” Thom bristled. “Oh come now, I wouldn't telegraph revenge, you can relax. I meant that I believe your lady can actually stop Solas. She is the only one who can. And if she's going in the Fade to do it...” Fenris looked over at Kaitala, who was in quiet conversation with Dagna and Morrigan.

“You think she'll see Hawke?”

“There is a chance.” Thom would have ridiculed the absurdity of finding one person, dead years ago, in the vast endlessness of the Fade, but for the fact that he would have done the same. “Enough of this,” Fenris said. “Have you heard what you need?”

“How long did it take?” Thom asked quietly. When Fenris frowned, confused, he added: “To work through the grief.”

Fenris took a long swallow of ale, stood, and handed the empty bottle back to Thom. “When I manage it, I will let you know.”

Sera sidled up in his absence. “He's a pisser, isn't he? Has that look about him.”

“He is, but he'll fight hard for us.”

“You trust him?”

“No more than I trust her,” he said, nodding at Briala, “or her.” That was directed to Morrigan, who was directing Dagna in applying some thick goop to the round end of Kaitala's left arm.

“I wish the others were here.”

“I wish none of us was here.”

“What good does that do us, hey? Wish for something realistic, like me being able to crap gold. Ooh! Or cookies! No, wait, poop cookies are a terrible idea. Endless arrows, maybe? Mm, no. I don't think there's anything I'd like to shit out.”

Thom laughed, touched her nose with his finger. “Always arses with you,” he said.

“I like 'em! Round and jiggly, like tits. They're like tits for your backside!” She let out a peal of delighted laughter that had everyone in the cave staring at them. Thom's face went hot and Sera stuck her tongue out at the group in general. Morrigan muttered something that dripped with disgust and they turned back to their work. “She doesn't like me,” Sera stage whispered. “Whatever will I do?”

“Don't you have prisoners to guard?” he asked, smiling.

“Right away, sir,” she said giving him a two-fingered salute and shifting back to her position. Thom scanned the others, saw they were all keeping to themselves.

Fenris had returned to his spot against the wall. For all the elf's seeming boredom with their situation, his keen eyes roved the cave and scanned outside the barrier as well, watchful. His commitment to reaching the Fade would make him a sharp ally. But after that, Thom suspected he would find the oblivion Varric had feared for him.

Sera's delighted laugh still echoed in his ears and a weighty resolve settled in Thom's heart. If, after all of this, he was still here and Kaitala was gone, he would find a purpose, could perhaps find it in what had brought him to Kaitala's side in the first place: truly joining the Wardens. They didn't need an old soldier to fight for them, but they could use one to train new recruits. And when he was done and the Deep Roads called, he'd head there gladly.

Kaitala appeared next to him, sitting down where Fenris had been. “Everything in order?” she asked, glancing briefly at Sera, then Fenris.

“He's hoping you'll see Hawke in the Fade.”

Kaitala's mouth twisted, a grimace of sadness and regret. “And if I don't?”

“He'll still fight. Do you think she's there?”

“If she is, then I think it would be like Justinia's spirit. Her, but not her.”

Thom nodded at her arm. “How are the preparations?”

“Dagna is beside herself with glee getting to participate. Sera, as you can imagine, has kept up a string of just quiet enough muttering that Morrigan either can't hear her or can tune it out. And I've been ordered to sit down and rest until they're ready. Whatever this stuff she put on my arm is itches, but I have to wait for it to dry.” Kaitala cracked her neck. “I feel like if I stop moving I'll fall asleep, though.”

“How much longer?”

Kaitala shrugged. “Morrigan just said 'a little while,' before sending me off.”

“Maybe you should take a nap. Did you keep the ring?” She held up her hand and he saw only her wedding ring. He smiled ruefully. “I should have guessed.”

“I don't want to sleep. I want to sit with you, in case...”

Thom took her hand and squeezed it hard. “I'd like that, too,” he said quietly.

She closed her eyes for a long moment, before rousing herself. “Feels like we've spent so much of our time together in situations like this, chasing down ever greater dangers. So many people needing us to succeed, even if they don't know it.” Kaitala rubbed her thumb over his. “All I ever wanted was a simple life. I had my small team, my small goals. Mercenary work for as long as I could and then, if I lived, retire to my parent's farm and make it my own. I admired Shokrakar but I didn't want to be her. Then they gave me command of the largest army in Thedas.” She smiled, her lips tight and small. “Because of dumb luck, mostly.”

“Kaitala-”

“No, I know. It was the right choice when they made it. _I_ was the right choice. I meant I didn't get the Anchor through any special act of my own. I wasn't Andraste's chosen Herald. It could have been anyone.”

“But it wasn't. _You_ decided to run in and help the Divine when Corypheus attacked.”

“I did.” Kaitala stared into the fire. “In that first year I constantly wondered what would have happened if I'd just made a different choice.”

“Why did you stop?”

“You.” Her eyes were bright in the firelight. “If I'd run away, or not volunteered for the mission at all, I wouldn't have met you, or the others. Our paths would never have crossed and I couldn't imagine it.” He opened his mouth and she pressed her fingers to his lips. “I know you don't want to hear this, but I have to say it: if I die, I want you to go on living. Consider it a gift to me.”

That on the edge of this battle she would think of his welfare almost undid him. He nodded once, fiercely.

The sound of bolts hitting the magical barrier cracked sharply through the cave. Thom leapt to his feet, relieved to see the barrier still stood. He looked to Morrigan, who had her eyes closed and was whispering furiously.

“The Qunari are here,” Briala said, pulling herself up.

 

* * *

 

Bolts both magical and wooden careened relentlessly into the barrier, until Kaitala had to shield her eyes from the flashing blue where they hit. When the barrage stopped, silence dropped on them like a thick blanket. Kaitala blinked and rubbed her ears.

“Scout approaching,” Fenris said from the cave's entrance.

“They won't get through,” Morrigan said. “But their arrival creates a problem for us. I can't sustain this and cast the spell to attach your hand.”

The barrier sparked bright and loud and the Qunari scout flew backwards to the ground. Sera laughed. “Ponce!” she shouted.

They waited through another round of magic and crossbow bolts. Kaitala half-expected it would fall, but Morrigan's word was true: the barrier held.

“Can Dagna cast the spell?” Kaitala asked once her ears had stopped ringing.

“Not really my thing,” Dagna said. “Sorry.”

“And I have to be...wearing the hand?”

“'Tis the only way we can be sure.”

“How many are there?”

“Six for sure, possibly more in the forest,” Fenris said. “One saarebas and their arvaarad. Two crossbowmen. The scout. A warrior.”

“I wish Bull was here, he'd have a better sense of what to expect,” Kaitala said.

“Our scouts reported ten,” Briala said.

“Five of us, leaving out Morrigan. Six if we give Briala her weapons back. Don't like those odds,” Thom murmured.

“Me either.” Kaitala glanced at their prisoner. “I like seven against ten better though.”

“You can't be serious!” That was Briala, looking aghast.

The barrier wavered only slightly as a single magical bolt struck it.

Thom had stacked the bodies of the other two elves in the corner of the cave when Kaitala had gone through the Eluvian earlier, their weapons thrown on top. She went there now and picked up a long sword and showed it to the elf, who nodded. Fenris smirked from his spot by the cave entrance, and the others looked cautiously uncertain alongside Briala's aggressive disbelief. She couldn't blame them. She was pretty uncertain herself.

She knelt next to the prisoner, who was sweating. “What's your name?”

“Divlan.”

This time a standard crossbow bolt made the barrier fizz. They were testing it at regular intervals to make sure it was still up.

“If the Qunari kill us, they'll kill you, too.”

“If Fen'Harel finds out I helped you, he'll kill me.”

“You don't think I can defeat him?” The look on his face made her laugh once, a sharp bark that echoed around the cave. “Do you even want me to?”

“I...I did not know his plans with the Veil. But elves lived before the Veil. We will do it again.”

“Not elves like you,” she said. “Elves like Solas.”

“We are the same,” he whispered. But his eyes couldn't meet hers.

Kaitala cut his bonds with the sword. Briala gasped, and even Thom grunted disapprovingly. Divlan looked down at his hands, rubbing blood into the wrists. “Why?” he asked.

“You could have just lied and told me you'd help me fight, then stab me in the back and run away. In fact if you'd jumped at my offer I would've killed you outright, to keep you from betraying us while we fought.” She stood, yanked him up, where he staggered on his deadened feet. “But you can't have your weapon until just before the battle.” She nodded at Sera. “And she'll shoot you dead if you even look at me funny.”

“She's right,” Sera said.

“And afterward? If you defeat the Qunari?”

Kaitala looked him up and down, his worn clothes, thin boots, and trembling hands. He was so young. “Then you can go. We'll be busy anyway.”

“Why do you trust me?”

“Is there a reason I shouldn't?” He mutely shook his head and she looked to Morrigan. “How long until you're ready?”

“Dagna?”

“I've got everything set up,” she said, glancing at Divlan. “I just finished the last marking.”

“Then once the salve dries we will be ready,” Morrigan said.

Kaitala touched her arm, found the salve had already formed a squishy shell. “Not much longer. How long will the spell take?”

“Long enough you'll have to repel the Qunari for a few minutes.”

Entire battles could be lost in that span of time. Kaitala searched the faces of her weary and weakened friends, their uneasy allies, Morrigan, who still seemed apart from them in the middle of the cave. Each one looked ready, even against their terrible odds. She could not let them die here, before she even had a shot at Solas. But there would be no other chance to get to Solas unless they fought.

“Dagna, you said you had two exploding...whatevers?”

“Yep. I only need one for Skyhold.”

“Here's the plan: we'll probably have a minute or two at most before they'll realize Morrigan dropped the barrier.” They brief pops of color and noise had become a background drone already. “Time the next three shots. Once the goop dries, we wait until their test shot, and then Morrigan drops it, to buy us the maximum time. Right before they shoot, throw your exploder out there. I'm hoping that gets us another minute at least. Then, we just have to fight them off. Sera, you shoot the second you see their crossbowman, Dagna, you throw out whatever else you've got. Everyone else _stay put_. The mouth of the cave isn't that big, especially for Qunari. If we hold the line and Sera and Dagna cover you, they won't be able to fight more than two, maybe three across. Divlan, Fenris, Thom, you are that line. Briala stays with me. After the hand is on, can you put up another barrier?” she asked Morrigan.

“No. I will be unable to cast anything for a day or more. My plan is to leave you in the Crossroads, to not attract Solas' attention further.”

“Won't the hand be a giant beacon?”

“Yes. He will feel it coming the instant we open the box, and he will be looking for you. It is best that he does not find me as well. I do not know what, if anything, he can do besides hear my thoughts.” Though her voice was as disaffected as ever, Kaitala could see the real fear deep in her ageless eyes.

“I will hold the line,” Fenris said, his voice as sharp as his elven blade. “Long enough for you and the others to go through.”

It was the same offer Hawke had made, holding off the Nightmare so the rest of them could escape the Fade. Kaitala swallowed hard, and nodded. “Everyone else goes through. _Everyone_ ,” Kaitala directed to Divlan's wide-mouthed stare. “You can split from us in the Crossroads, but you'll be killed if you stay out here. Once we're through, Briala will close the Eluvian behind us, and from there we head for Skyhold as planned.”

“Just like that,” Fenris said. She glanced at him, but he simply smiled.

Kaitala touched the goo on her arm and found the shell had solidified. Whatever it was, it was done hardening. She wanted desperately to reach out to Thom for extra strength, but feared morale would be brought low if it made her look weak. So she channeled her mother's impenetrable core and handed the long sword to Thom without softening her features. “Get ready to fight.” The barrier zapped again. “Dagna, start counting.”

With Dagna's quiet voice in the background, Kaitala went to the barrier's edge and stared out. She could make out the Qunari at the edge of the forest, looking bored. Given their position, she didn't entirely blame them. Kaitala had experienced that same edgy dullness many times as a mercenary. Her own heart was pounding, anxious and nervous about the battle to come.

“What is the Fade like?” Fenris asked, having silently joined her side.

“Uncomfortable,” she said. _Terrifying_ , she kept to herself. “Nothing is quite right. You were in the Crossroads. It's like that, but more.” She looked down at him, his pursed lips and tense jaw. “I'm sorry about Hawke.”

“Mm.”

“Varric spoke highly of her. And at length.”

“Varric speaks at length about everything.”

Kaitala's chest hurt. She missed Varric's cheerful prattle, Dorian's showy aggrievedness, Bull's thirst for life. Leliana. She hoped Cassandra was healed, that Cullen got some rest.

The barrier fizzed. “58,” Dagna reported, and then started counting again.

“Thank you,” she murmured to Fenris, and then went to check on Sera and found her tapping her feet in rhythmic patterns on the floor. “Ready?”

“Been ready forever. All this waiting and planning makes my ears itch.”

“Is that an elf joke?”

Sera wrinkled her nose. “Balls, I hope not.”

“Sera-”

“Oh no, no you don't. You keep your big goodbye speech to yourself and just tell me what it was after this is all through so I can laugh at it properly.”

Kaitala, in spite of herself, smiled. “I'm glad you're here.”

“I can't entirely say the same, but I am looking forward to turning that nasty Qunari mage bugger into a pincushion.”

Dagna was staring intently at the barrier and counting softly, so Kaitala let her be. She passed by Divlan staring blankly at the dirt and hoped he would have enough in him to fight. At Briala, Kaitala stopped and handed her back her dagger. “You'll be needing this.”

“You are a fool,” Briala said, slipping the dagger into her belt. “But only a fool would attempt to defeat Fen'Harel.”

“The moment the Hand is attached, you open the Eluvian, and then close it again once we're all through.”

“I understand.”

A bolt of magic hit the barrier this time, spreading through it's surface with a low hiss. “63,” Dagna reported, then kept counting.

“After the next one, Morrigan drops the barrier. Everyone be ready.” Kaitala felt Thom watching her, considered just ignoring him entirely, but she needed to touch him too badly. When she took his hand, the force of his grip told her he needed the same. The stared mutely at each other while Dagna counted.

“'Twould be best if you were here when the barrier drops,” Morrigan said quietly. “I will start the spell immediately.”

Kaitala nodded and tightened her grip. It was the smart thing to let go, but her body wouldn't let her.

“42. 43. 44.”

Thom loosened his grip a little, but still she stayed.

“48. 49. 50.”

“Go,” he whispered. He released her hand, so it was her clutching tight to his fingers for a moment.

“56.”

Kaitala let him go and positioned herself across the cauldron from Morrigan.

“62.” The barrier buzzed. Crossbow bolt again. Everyone turned to look at Kaitala.

Time stretched out before her, a deep chasm where all the things she'd ever wanted, small as they were, hovered on the other side she'd never reach. Her mother had spent countless nights, after long brutal days of training and education, massaging Kaitala's young muscles. Kaitala remembered her father would mix up a stinging liniment for her cuts, and heat milk with lavender to soothe her weary mind. Then her mother would share quiet stories of her own battles as a Tal-Vashoth mercenary. They were sometimes gruesome, sometimes funny, often proud. The underlying moral of every one was to always push forward. The past was done, she would say, and the present was already here, but the future was still yours to control. The idea of that exhausted Kaitala then, as big as the future was to a teenage girl, but now it felt like comfort.

With a nod to Morrigan to begin, she threw herself into the dark abyss at her feet.

 

* * *

 


	13. Chapter 13

The first part of the plan went off as expected: Morrigan dropped the barrier and started her spell, Dagna counted to 50 and then threw out one of her exploders, throwing the Qunari into chaos and stunning the saarebas, and Sera started firing at their crossbowman. She had a full quiver and then some, having gathered all the extra arrows she could from their last fight, and she held the Qunari at bay long enough that Kaitala thought they might manage this. But she kept a worried eye on her friends while Morrigan pressed her fingertips to Kaitala's arm and chanted. Then the witch stopped and pulled the hand out of the box and Kaitala's world went bright and shrank to just the green glow in front of her.

Morrigan's voice filled her head and pushed out the sudden shouts of her friends as the Qunari finally got close enough to engage. The words beat in time with her heart, or her heart with the words, she couldn't tell which was leading the way but it didn't matter, none of it mattered except the way the energy lifted out from the hand, sparking and hissing as the tendrils reached eagerly towards the rounded stub of her arm. The words and her heartbeat faded away, too, and her body throbbed against the energy of the hand, an off-step dance that made everything hurt too much. The tendrils had grown into thick ropes and they wrapped around her arm and slithered around her chest. They pushed into her as her body pushed out, fighting hard on Kaitala's behalf while her mind was consumed. There was movement around her, she thought she heard someone cry out, her body resisted one last time and then merged with the energy's rhythm and the pain went away. All was green and bright, hissing and sparking, energy and life burning together and through her. She couldn't feel her body to tell if she was breathing.

Then, like a sword slicing through the ropes, Morrigan's voice spoke one last, loud word, and Kaitala was released back into the world.

There was a brief moment of silence and peace, and then fire burned through her left arm and Kaitala cried out and fell to her knees on the cave's hard floor. She closed the hand - _her_ hand – into a fist and watched the energy roar and crackle over it, wild at being contained, fighting to get loose. She remembered this feeling from just before Solas had taken it two years ago. It was agony, and power. There was an angry line where the hand had fused back to her arm and for one wild moment she wondered if she could just rip it off.

“Kaitala!” Thom's voice burst through the pain, and she blinked down tears to look his way. The plan that had started well had turned terribly in the time she'd been under the spell. There were more Qunari than they'd expected, and though Sera kept the saarebas busy with her arrows, the remainder were surging against the wall of Thom, Fenris, and Divlan, who was fighting with unexpected skill. Dagna had joined them, small dagger darting in and out, assisting where she could. Next to Kaitala, Briala balanced on the balls of her feet, staring wildly. She held out her hand to help Kaitala up.

“We must go,” she said. Behind her the Eluvian shone bright as a beacon.

“Quickly,” Morrigan said, her voice a rough rasp. She stumbled to the Eluvian, looking as exhausted as Kaitala felt.

Struggling to her feet, squinting through the pain, Kaitala yelled “Retreat!” Thom kicked his opponent in the knee and then stepped backward, and Fenris shifted into position in time to slide his sword smoothly into the Qunari's stomach. Divlan continued his attack as well while Sera kept up cover fire for Dagna and Thom. Kaitala motioned them through the Eluvian after Morrigan. Briala hovered at the edge of the mirror. “Divlan!” Kaitala shouted. “Retreat!”

The elf spared her only the most fleeting look and a firm shake of his head, before doubling his efforts. Kaitala hesitated for a heartbeat, and then followed the others through the portal, leaving the sounds of the ferocious and losing battle echoing through the cave.

The preternatural silence of the Crossroads felt oppressive after the noises of a moment before, and Kaitala's ears were ringing loud enough she only knew Briala had spoken the key word when the Eluvian went dark. Thom rushed to Kaitala's side and reached out to her glowing hand without touching it. He had fresh blood on his face and arms. The ringing dimmed and disappeared.

“Are you hurt?” she asked.

He showed her the wound from their previous fight with the elves, which had been reopened in a jagged line. “Retreated not a minute too soon,” he said quietly.

“Where's Divlan?” Dagna asked.

“Foolishness inspires foolishness,” Briala said.

“The lad fought hard,” Thom said. “We would've been doomed without his help. You were right to conscript him.”

Kaitala stared down at her hand, felt the power gathering itself in an angry wave. She wanted to yell, to bite through something, to burn down every last bush in the Crossroads. Instead she swallowed. “We need to move fast now. The hand is hard to control.” She looked around. “Where's Morrigan? I saw her come through.”

Thom shrugged. “She wasn't here when we arrived.”

“Good riddance,” Sera muttered.

“You should take half a potion,” Kaitala told Thom. When he did so without protesting, she felt her stomach drop. Whatever had happened during the battle had been worse than just the arm. After a quick confirmation that the others were still uninjured, she packed the bottle away again.

Briala led the way back to the Eluvian from before. The Crossroads felt steadier now, although they seemed to warp and bend around the Anchor. Solas had to know they were coming. Kaitala hoped he trembled.

Dagna nearly bounced with giddiness on their short walk, reaching out to touch every plant and rock, exclaiming over the color of the place and the taste of the air. Sera was much less enamored, glowering in silence, her forehead a scrunched line. Thom's was too, but he looked pained more than angry.

They came around the boulder and found the Eluvian again, still dark. “There should be no one on the other side, but it would be wise to be prepared to go through at once after I activate the portal. Are you ready?” The last Briala directed with dripping scorn to Dagna, who either didn't catch it or didn't care. The dwarf nodded eagerly. “ _Revasan 4_” Briala said sharply, bringing the Eluvian to life.

Sera jumped through first, clearly eager to be gone, and Thom followed quick on her heels. Kaitala nudged Dagna forward and then motioned for Briala. Alone in the Crossroads, her arm throbbing, Kaitala let out one loud, hitched sob before containing herself again. She rubbed her normal hand across her eyes and then stepped through.

 

* * *

 

The Eluvian room was empty except for Sera when Thom stepped through. The Crossroads-induced headache pounded a few more heartbeats and then dissipated. His arm had mostly healed but the fresh gash in his side that he'd hid from Kaitala still ached badly.

“Fucking weird elvish bullshit,” Sera muttered as Dagna stepped through, and then Briala shortly after.

Dagna was still starry eyed. “That was amazing!”

The Eluvian wavered again and Kaitala arrived. Thom could see the hand had already sapped an enormous amount of her strength and she grimaced as Briala closed the portal. “We should move,” the elf said.

“Your turn,” Kaitala said to Dagna. “You ready?”

“I'm always ready to blow things up.”

Sera threw herself at Kaitala, wrapping the much larger Qunari woman in a huge hug. Kaitala looked startled, but returned it fiercely. Sera whispered something that made Kaitala's mouth tug upward for a brief moment, and then the elf turned towards Thom. He held his arms out with a grimace when it pulled at his side, but when she walked over, she punched him in the shoulder.

“Ow!”

“First of all, don't get killed,” she said, “or there will be more where that came from.”

“Noted,” he said, rubbing his arm.

“Secondly, you and Kaitala have a weirdly intense thing going, but I'm glad you'll be with her.”

“Thanks?”

“Third place, I like your hair short like this, but I miss the big beard, you know?”

Thom squinted at her. “Are you trying to keep from saying goodbye?”

“What? No.” Sera looked around and then said, “Fifth, no, wait, fourth, we haven't talked at all about what's going on with Varric and Cassandra.”

Dagna had her exploder in hand and was watching them patiently.

“Sera, listen-”

“Five, now, definitely five, when we're done you still owe me a drink from that last card game.”

“Sera.” Thom tugged her earlobe, and she bit her lip hard. “You take care of yourself, and Dagna.” He hugged her tight, and they were both teary when he pulled away. “I love you,” he said, his voice gruff.

“I love you, too, you bearded git.” She punched him in the arm again, hard. “But seriously, don't you die.” She grabbed Dagna's hand and with a final wave from the small mage, they crept out of the room. Thom rubbed his arm and chuckled at Briala's evident distaste for the whole exchange.

“What, don't you have friends?” he asked her.

“Not like her.”

“Ah, there's no one like her,” he said, proud. Kaitala groaned, pulling Thom's attention. “What is it, love? The hand?”

She nodded, mute. Sweat beaded her forehead.

“I hope your witch is right,” Briala said.

Kaitala breathed in, deep, then out slow. “So do I.”

The trio waited for Dagna's explosion, Kaitala's focused breathing the only noise in the room. It was fully morning now and bright sun streamed in through the one high window, giving the air a deceptively pleasant glow. It was strange to be back in Skyhold again when he'd been so sure they would never return. The stones themselves felt familiar to him, even if he'd only been in this particular room briefly. He wondered if anything but the stones would look the same everywhere else.

Time passed unbearably slow as they waited in silence, until Thom thought he'd choke on the thick anticipation. “Come on,” he murmured, hoping Sera and Dagna were safe, wondering what they'd do if this didn't work. And then through the thick stone walls they heard a deep, roaring boom and the ground shuddered under their feet. Thom looked at Kaitala, who stared hard at the ground, her whole body trembling and sweat-covered.

Briala cracked open the door and peered out. “They're running,” she whispered. “Get ready.”

“Kaitala?” Her breathing grew louder, as though every intake of air was a fight. Thom's heart raced in time with her labored breaths. He moved in front of her but she still didn't look up. Thom pressed his palms to Kaitala's cheeks, watched her eyes dart wildly before finally meeting his. “You can do this,” he said. Her body shuddered and she closed her eyes, pressing her forehead to his.

“We need to go,” Briala said.

Kaitala opened her eyes, and Thom was relieved to see the fog in them had lifted. “Lead the way,” she said to the other woman.

 

* * *

 

The area just outside of the Eluvian room was empty and calm, but they could hear shouting and smell the acrid stench of burning straw. It was coming from the direction of the training ground and stables, which were easily the most flammable parts of the castle.

Briala led them swiftly along the garden paths and halted them at the edge of a huge stone stairwell. The steps led up to the tower Cullen had occupied when the Inquisition had been here.

“We can get there fastest by going up these steps, but we'll be a target if we do.”

“We'll be a target no matter where we go,” Thom said.

“Fast is better,” Kaitala whispered. The Anchor's power was surging, thrumming through her whole body. She'd need to release it soon, or it would release on its own, injuring everyone in their group. Briala nodded and moved like water over the edge of the stairwell. Kaitala climbed over after her and hurried up the stairs, taking them two at a time, her long legs carrying her so quickly she beat Briala up. When she paused to look back, she heard shouts in elvish, and an arrow clanked against the steps at her feet. Briala was nearly to her, but Thom was moving more slowly than normal and was still only halfway up. Kaitala's hand throbbed. An elf pulled back his bow and aimed for Thom's broad back. Kaitala lifted her hand and the power surged out of her fingers like a tidal wave, arcing in a long, green bolt down to the elves, and blasted a crater in the ground where they stood. Thom stumbled on the stairs from the shockwave. When the smoke cleared, there was scorched earth in a three-meter diameter, and the bodies of elves littered about. The bowman had disappeared entirely.

With the power dispensed, the pain in her hand dulled and Kaitala caught her breath, felt her heart slow a little. Briala stared at her with wide, frightened eyes. Thom reached the top, his lips twisted in a grimace and one hand clutching his side.

“Did I hurt you?” Kaitala asked.

“No, no. I'm just old and wounded.” He smiled wanly. “Let's keep moving.”

They all gathered themselves and then Briala led them over the familiar stone path to the tower connected to the main hall. The fire burning in the stables was growing from the smell and the smoke clouding the sky, and it was a relief to move inside where things were calmer and the air was, for now, still clear. The Anchor steadily re-charged.

The main hall was empty, the door to the Undercroft unguarded.

“You're sure he's down here?” Thom asked as they hesitated at the door.

“Absolutely.”

Kaitala wrapped her fingers around the wrist of her Anchored hand. Surely Solas could feel this much power pulsing just above him. Why would he leave the door unguarded?

“Bastard's cocky,” Thom muttered, as though he'd read her mind.

At the far end of the hall, through the thick main doors, they heard more shouting. Briala looked at her. “Are you ready, Lady Adaar?”

The Anchor thrummed, the power – or was it Solas? - calling softly to her. It, she, whispered “yes.”

 

* * *

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 4 “the place where freedom dwells”


	14. Chapter 14

As Thom remembered, the door in the main hall opened into a small space only a few feet across, a transition into the stone of the mountain Skyhold sat on. Across from the door a tunnel had been rough-hewn into the stone. Veilfire flickered in a scone at the entrance, and there were more along the walls every ten feet or so as they followed the tunnel down, though Kaitala's hand shone brightly enough they didn't need the veilfire.

Ancient as it was, the tunnel felt solid, like a natural extension of the mountain. It wound back and forth heading downward at a gentle angle. Thom's whole body ached, new and old injuries alike protesting every step down. He pressed his hand to his side trying to quiet the worst of it and glanced back at Kaitala. She had to duck as they walked, her Anchored hand clutched to her chest. She stared at the ground, her body tight with tension.

Thom hadn't spent much time down in the Undercroft – mostly just when Sera dragged him down to give her an excuse to flirt with Dagna – and he couldn't recall how many turns were left when Briala stopped them.

“Listen,” she whispered.

They paused, and over the sound of his and Kaitala's huffing breaths, came a voice speaking a hurried torrent of Elvish. Solas. Thom's hand slipped from his side to his sword.

“One more turn and then we are there. The barrier is directly at the entrance. Once I speak the words to pass you must hurry through. It won't take the ward down, it only opens it for a moment. Rainier, you and I will attack Fen'Harel's physical form while Kaitala opens the Fade. I do not know what may be on that side, but I suspect he will have spirits there to guard him.”

“Knowing Solas, I agree,” Kaitala said.

“Do you think,” Briala hesitated, glancing at the Anchor. “Is it strong enough?”

The green light sparked and hissed, casting Kaitala in a sickly glow. “It is,” she said.

 _But is she?_ Thom wondered.

 

 

* * *

 

“Let's go,” Kaitala said, nodding at them and trying to ignore the worry so clear in Thom's eyes. She'd have to run through the Fade quickly or he was sure to follow, and she couldn't risk him getting stuck there.

Briala, her forehead lined with doubt, nonetheless did as Kaitala commanded, and they turned the last corner to the Undercroft. There was a blue haze where the door from the tunnel used to be, and beyond she saw Solas standing in the middle of a thickly drawn rune on the floor, staring straight at her. He was chanting nonstop in Elvish, words she had no hope of understanding. The air around him surged with power, electric waves and sparks that washed up against the barrier and tried to push out. Even from here Kaitala could taste the magic on her tongue. Besides Solas, around the edge of the room there was table upon table filled with bottles, plants, and artifacts, but no other elves. _One lucky thing._

Though he stared their way, Solas showed no signs of actually seeing them. _Two,_ Kaitala amended. “I go in first,” she said out loud, “and then Briala.” Thom pulled his sword out awkwardly in the tunnel, grimacing in pain, and didn't object. Kaitala's heart twisted. “Now.”

“ _Lathbora viran 5_,” Briala said firmly. The barrier brightened and then split open and Kaitala rushed through.

Though Solas did not move, his words faltered when she entered the room and his eyes, distant and cloudy, went sharp and focused on her. His face looked as ancient and hard as it had in the dream but his body was wasting away, skin stretched thin over pointed bones. And in his eyes she could still see her friend looking back. His mouth moved without sound, his lips shaping her name, before he picked up his chant again and the energy around him intensified.

The Anchor began to throb in time with the pulse of magic and she _felt_ Solas' words wrapping around her hand. They tugged and pulled, wrapped themselves inside and around, trying to draw the Anchor to him. As though it did not belong to her at all, her hand started moving forward, and then stopped when she refused to move her body with it, her arm lifted straight out ahead of her while she leaned backward, feet trying to find purchase on the stone floor. She grimaced as the skin where Morrigan had connected the hand stretched, but whatever she'd used to attach it held firm. Solas' eyes went wide with shock. Morrigan had been right, Kaitala realized viscerally, starting to lose purchase against the inexorable pull; the Anchor would already have been his if she'd just walked in holding it. Her feet scraped forward an inch at a time. Then a dagger sailed past her and into Solas' stomach and hell broke loose.

 

* * *

 

Thom followed on Briala's heels through the ward, and it sliced shut seconds after he'd stepped inside. The air inside the ward was thick and electric, the magic somehow suffocating. He watched Kaitala go rigid then fight being pushed and pulled by invisible forces.

“What's happening?” he asked Briala, but instead of answering she reached for a ceremonial dagger on one of the crowded tables nearby and threw it in a smooth motion at Solas. When the dagger struck him, the magic went wild, loosed from the tight control he'd had on it.

It slammed into Thom, sending him flying backward into the ward. Hitting the ward was like hitting a hard mattress, and Thom was more dazed from the energy's punch. He shook his head to clear it. When his vision steadied, he saw Briala rising from where she'd been thrown into the table, and Kaitala still standing strong and leaning into the storm with both her hands back under her control and clenched in fists at her waist.

Solas looked gratifyingly off-balance, giving Thom hope their plan might work. He began yelling in elvish, and the magic that pounded at the edges of the ward seemed to screech as the mage reeled it in, molding it back into a contained storm instead of a rampaging beast. While the elf focused on that, Thom pulled his shield and rushed forward to attack, but Solas held his hand out and a bolt shot from his palm, striking Thom's shield and shattering it. Thom stared, stunned, at the leather strap in his hand, the pieces of metal at his feet.

Then it was Solas' turn to stare in surprise, when Briala leaped towards him and buried her dagger in his chest. He blinked once, twice, his words dying on his lips and the magic roaring out of control once more. Thom crouched into it this time and it buffeted past and through him but left him standing. Briala staggered backward into Kaitala, who held both of them up. Solas pulled the dagger out of his chest and threw it down, sending blood and the blade clattering to the floor. His face contorted with bitter rage as he glared at the other elf. “ _Why?_ ” he hissed.

“Felassan,” she said, the word like a slap.

Solas' face went blank and as he lifted his hand again, Briala shouted “Now, Lady Adaar!” and wrest herself out of Kaitala's steadying grip, but that left Kaitala directly in the path of Solas' magic. Thom bull-rushed her and he took the brunt of the hit to his already wounded side as he shoved her out of the way. His sword fell from his limp hand and skidded away as he cried out, knees crashing into the floor.

“Thom!” Kaitala knelt next to him, while Briala threw another dagger at Solas and the magic wailed all around them. There was shouting outside the barrier, too. The soldiers had arrived and were trying to break through.

“The Fade,” Thom coughed, his whole side burning. “Open it.”

“You're hurt.”

He chuckled. “Badly.” Briala threw another dagger and Solas sent a bolt that veered wildly off. Thom couldn't tell if it was because he was injured or the interference of wild magic. Kaitala was sweating and ashen. She wouldn't last much longer. “It must be now.”

Kaitala dragged him up, where he wavered unsteadily. “Fight,” she urged, handing him his sword.

Thom took it with shaky hands. “To the last,” he swore.

She shook her head. “To live,” she said. She kissed his forehead and then turned, lifting her hand. Green light exploded, and the world itself seemed to crack open in front of her and Thom saw her fall to her knees. The wild magic turned into a tornado, pushing him backward. Solas screamed. Thom saw Briala had gotten behind him and had plunged her long, sharp dagger into his back.

Kaitala struggled to her feet, lit by the pulsating slice in their reality just beyond her. She fought towards it through the magic that now was actively fighting her, her enmagicked hand held in front of her like a shield. It burned with green light so bright Thom couldn't stare at it directly. She faltered, stumbled, and even as Thom moved to help her, she took one last step forward and threw herself into the Fade.

 

* * *

 

Assaulted by Solas' magic, the lightning shocks of the portal, and her own Anchor, Kaitala fell into the Fade. But instead of landing on her face, her feet flew up over her head then gently rotated until she was standing on rocky ground.

The Portal crackled and hissed twenty feet up in the middle of nothing. She didn't waste the Anchor's energy – or hers – closing it. Either she'd succeed and it would close, or she'd fail and it wouldn't matter.

Kaitala took stock of where she'd landed. Crumbling mountains floated like clouds in the dark sky, yellow-green light oozed from everywhere and nowhere, and there, standing on top of a hill made of rock so dark it absorbed the dim light, was Solas. He was chanting in this world, and spirits of every sort, many of them elven, ringed the bottom of the hill. They watched her approach, her every step like wading through hip-deep mud as she fought exhaustion and the waves of sheer power. Kaitala unsheathed her sword and held the Anchor loosely at her side. Opening the portal had discharged a huge amount of its power, and she took in deep lungfuls of air while she could, even though the air in the Fade was almost too thick to swallow. But here, where the Anchor truly belonged, the power gathered faster, and the closer she got to Solas, the faster it charged.

A handful of the spirits stepped towards her. Most of them were recognizably elven, but two were the huge, hulking outline of ogres. Kaitala's stomach churned. She hadn't expected darkspawn to be here. One of the ogres roared and she could feel the deep bellow blowing through her. The Anchor throbbed, eager to be released. Kaitala let it, and the green arc cut a hole in the approaching group. When she'd blinked away the afterglow, she saw one ogre left. The other spirits from the small group had disappeared entirely.

A second, larger group of spirits peeled themselves free of the ring around the mountain and came at her, shouting, the ogre leading the way. Kaitala raised her sword and met the monster spirit's first attack head-on.

 

* * *

 

The magic in the Undercroft continued to rage wildly. Solas flailed at the knife sunk deep into his back with one hand, while shooting bolts of magic around the room at Thom and Briala with the other. Thom had flipped over a table and hid behind it, and the bolts that hit took off fist-sized chunks of the thick oak. Solas was losing power, but he was still dangerous. Thom could see Briala hiding behind a partially destroyed table, blood dripping down her face.

Solas yanked the dagger free and threw it to the ground with a guttural snarl. “ _Ma halam, da'banal 6. _” Briala shuddered.__

__Thom looked around, found a bowl that looked heavy enough to do some damage, and as he stood he hurled it at Solas. It cracked into the elf's shoulder, and he howled and shot a bolt at Thom that barely hit his side but still knocked him down again. The injury already there ripped wider and Thom curled on his side behind the table, his breathing clawing it's way out through the pain._ _

__“ _Ar tu na'din! 7_” Solas screamed. _ _

__Thom dragged himself back to his knees and peered over the edge of the table. Solas was down to one knee, blood all around his feet. His wasted body trembled and the magic tugged hungrily at his simple clothes._ _

__“For Felassan!” Briala cried. She leapt forward holding the splintered leg from one of the tables and swung it at Solas' head. His hand came up lightning-fast and with a ferocious grimace he yanked it from her and grabbed her by the throat with his other hand._ _

__Hands slick with blood, Thom fumbled with his sword and forced himself up. He called on the deep reserves of the Champion to guard him as he rushed towards the elves. Solas threw Briala down and brought both hands up, weaving them in a quick, intricate pattern right before Thom slammed into a wall of blue force. Agony arced like lightning down his face as his nose broke, blood filling his vision. He heard Briala again, a furious, anguished cry before it cut abruptly short. Through the wailing of the magic, Thom heard a body hit the ground._ _

  

* * *

 

While the ogre roared and swung with huge fists, the other spirits maneuvered around to Kaitala's sides and back. Kaitala swung her sword in large arcs, keeping them from getting too close, but her sword arm was already tired and the arcs grew steadily slower and smaller, and the spirits pressed their advantage. The ogre's fist slammed into the ground at her feet and when she jumped backwards, she collided with one of the elvish spirits behind her, it's energy blade slicing through her side.

She discharged the Anchor again, destroying the ogre and the spirits all to her left, and the others pulled back in fear. Kaitala's lungs were like bellows as she put her back to the now empty space to face the spirits. She noticed another large group gather and head towards her. She would never be able to fight them all, even with the Anchor. Her only hope was to blow a hole through the circle around the hill and hope she could reach Solas before the spirits caught her.

She would just have to survive long enough for the Anchor to recharge. The pack of spirits in front of her attacked again.

 

* * *

 

Thom rubbed the blood from his eyes and saw Solas crouched over Briala's body like a feral animal. When Thom scrambled backward, putting more space between them, Solas' head whipped towards him and fear pierced his heart. The elvish soldiers continued shouting and attacking the ward but it held against their assault. The magic inside pricked and prickled at Thom's skin. Every time he moved, the wounds on his body opened further, a hundred small, constant agonies. He had to kill Solas now, before his body failed him.

Solas, torn and bloody, gathered himself, crawled on all fours like a wolf towards Thom. When Thom reached for his sword, he saw it had been knocked feet away, too far to make it before Solas would be on him. Thom laid his head back on the floor and laughed bitterly. Solas hesitated.

“Laughter, Blackwall?” Solas said, his voice a hoarse rasp. “Tricks will not save you.”

Thom put his hands out to push himself up and felt something long and sharp and rough underneath his fingers. He closed his hand around it and hoped it would be enough. “I told you,” he said, leveraging his screaming body into position while Solas watched with contempt, “my name is Thom Rainier.” And with that he threw himself at the elf, bringing the deadly splinter of wood up and into Solas' throat as he did.

 

* * *

 

Kaitala bled from a dozen wounds. Spirits disappeared after her own attacks only to be replaced a second later by another. Her arm was dead weight and she'd had to use the Anchor again just to give herself a moment to separate herself from the mob.

Atop the hill in the Fade, Solas shuddered and the spirits halted their onslaught and turned as one to face him. Kaitala staggered, the attack she'd been making slicing through a spirit with no resistance. She rubbed her arm across her face to clear the sweat and her own blood, and backed away from the horde. They paid her no attention.

Creeping parallel to the hill, the spirits in her sight, she saw Solas' form go dim and then fall to the ground. A low wail swirled around her, until the ground shook and her ears ached with it. It was the spirits.

Thom and Briala must have killed Solas' physical form. Kaitala slumped against a nearby boulder in relief. _Just a moment to rest_ , she thought. The spirits' mournful ululation spread outward, and it seemed the Fade itself cried. The Anchor throbbed with it. Kaitala shoved off of the boulder to finish the job when the thundering noise abruptly cut off and silence rushed in like a waterfall. The rift to the physical world glowed and beams of light burst through. They headed directly for Solas. He stood, and his body glowed too bright to look at directly.

Every spirit turned to look at her.

“Shit,” she said.

 

* * *

 

The wood slid cleanly into the crease where Solas' jaw met his neck and he went rigid. His hands came up, thin fingers grasping Thom's wrist like a burning brand. Solas' mouth moved, open and closing in silent shock. His eyes were wide and wandering until his gaze met Thom's.

For all that Solas had become in his quest to destroy the Fade, with his blood dripping down Thom's hand and mixing with Thom's, all Thom could think now were of the journeys they'd taken and battles they had fought together. They hadn't been friends, exactly, but they'd been brothers-in-arms. He'd taken hits meant for the elf, knew the elf had saved him more than once, too. Solas' blood was hot on Thom's fingers.

“I'm sorry,” Thom said. Solas closed his eyes and his body went limp, falling into Thom. All around them the magic howled louder and louder, kicking up debris, tugging at Thom's clothes. Then it gathered itself and arrowed through the open rift to the Fade, leaving silence behind. Thom laid Solas down as the ward all around them disappeared.

The elvish soldiers on the other side had stopped their assault when Thom had stabbed Solas. They lifted their weapons now and pointed them at Thom. “ _Na tu din Fen'Harel 8!_”

“Bloody hell,” Thom groaned.

 

* * *

 

The spirits swarmed her before she could get her sword up. Kaitala covered her head with her arms and tried to push through but their fingers and claws ripped and pulled. She shoved her hand out and tried to burn a hole through with the Anchor, but it hadn't recharged fully and the lance that shot out was short and weak.

The mass forced her down to one knee. Everything was pressure and the rank smell of the Fade's muck-covered ground mixed with her blood. She couldn't breathe. Her shoulders cracked and burned as she tried to crawl her way out. The spirits scored deeper cuts on her arms and legs in the space where her armor connected. The Anchor was covered in mud and blood, the green glow almost too faint to see. Kaitala stared at it, willed it to gather just a little more magic. She needed space. She needed air.

The pulsing mass of spirits pressed down and pressed her body into the ground.

 _Andraste, please_ , she begged. _Give me strength._

Then, like an answered prayer, the weight lifted. The spirits screamed all around, but not at, her. She shoved back up to all fours and blinked through the dirt in her eyes.

A sword slashed through the spirits, almost cutting into Kaitala until she threw herself forward out of the way. A figure followed, grabbed the back of Kaitala's armor and pulled her up.

“Sorry I'm late!” It was Hawke, or Hawke's spirit, grinning up at her. “I had to make a stop.”

“ _Hawke_?”

The other woman – or the spirit of her – took out another of the elvish spirits. “More or less.” She pushed Kaitala's sword into her hand. “Take this, we've got work to do. Can't let Fenris have all the fun.”

Fenris, lyrium veins glowing brightly, was a whirling tornado of destruction. Kaitala blinked but took up her weapon and went to work. On top of the hill, Solas' chanting grew louder. With the other two helping, Kaitala bought enough time for the Anchor to gather enough magic that her whole arm burned with it, and when she released the explosion in a bright burning ball, it scorched the earth where the pack of spirits had been. Fenris and Hawke, who'd been fighting safely behind her, finished off the last of their spirits as well.

“Nice weapon,” Hawke said, nodding at the Anchor. She was floating slightly above the ground, but looked otherwise as Kaitala had last seen her. Fenris looked more indistinct, but his attacks had been real enough.

“Dangerous,” Fenris said, frowning. “What now?”

Kaitala stared down at the hand, which was already gathering more of the Fade magic to it, calling without words. She had so many questions for the two that had helped her, but there was no time. “Solas.”

The trio looked up at the hill, where Solas' light had dimmed, but the steady stream of elvish continued.

“He calls for more aid,” Fenris said.

“He doesn't need to call,” Hawke said. “The magic being wielded here is loud enough on its own. That's how we found you. And there will be more than just us following it. Fenris told me what was happening, you better get moving.”

Kaitala hesitated. She'd been the one to leave Hawke here those years ago, to let Fenris stay behind in the cave. “Hawke-”

The woman shook her head. “Go.” Then she grinned again, a bright flash of teeth in her dirty face. “Fenris and I have lots to catch up on while we wait for the reinforcements.”

With a nod, Kaitala ran for the hill.

 

* * *

 

Thom prided himself on being smart instead of prideful in a fight, which was why he was hiding behind one of the tables, using it as a giant shield that corralled Solas' soldiers into fighting in a confined space.

Still they had scored enough hits that his survival was looking shorter by the minute. There had been no change from the rift, and Thom couldn't see through it to figure out what was happening with Kaitala, so he steeled himself to fight on, even as the tip of another sword nicked his cheek.

 _You can do this_ , he thought, both for himself and for her.

 

* * *

 

Kaitala expected to find a ward or barrier, but Solas had apparently put his faith in the ring of spirits around the hill because she made it to him unimpeded. A circle lined with ancient Elven symbols had been carved into the ground with him in the middle. His chanting trailed off when she halted ten feet away, her hand held loose at her side. The Anchor hadn't charged all the way and she knew she'd only have one good shot. He had been the one who'd taken the power from her the last time, and her hand with it. She couldn't let him get close again.

Solas' form in the Fade looked surprisingly solid and much healthier than his body in the world. His eyes looked ancient, and tired, and regretful.

“Kaitala.”

She swallowed, not sure what to say. Her hand began to throb.

“I had so hoped it would not end like this,” he said.

“I don't know why you expected any different.”

“I had thought-” He grimaced. “It was foolish. And now we are here.”

“Solas, please. Stop this. I don't want to do this.”

He smiled, a turn of the lips that was all sadness. “I see I am not the only one with foolish hopes.” The Anchor crackled, drawing his attention. “A wonder that Morrigan could do that. Could hide it all from me for so long.”

Kaitala's hand clenched. It was almost ready.

Solas lifted his hands and she stepped back, bringing her sword up, but he waved them nonchalantly and there was an image of Thom in the Undercroft, backed against a wall, trapped behind a table, fighting off too many guards and pain at the same time. He was covered in so much blood she couldn't tell where any of the wounds were. His every move was slower than the last. Her heart stuttered.

“You could go back to him,” Solas said. “Back through the rift and help him. You can't stop me, not even with that.” But when she looked at Solas, there was real fear in his eyes.

“I have a better idea,” Kaitala said. The Anchor buzzed, green lightning sparking up her arm. Kaitala turned and directed the energy through the open rift.

 

* * *

 

There was not much time left. Thom parried a blow, hardly felt when another elf scored a hit along his shoulder. He only hoped he'd given Kaitala enough time, that she'd defeat Solas and save everyone.

The room exploded.

Thom was thrown back against the wall and he collapsed in a heap, his sword at his feet. The world went dark and fuzzy around the edges. He let his eyes close and waited to die.

Except.

The explosion had been the color of the Anchor's magic. Against his body's moaning cry, Thom opened his eyes and crawled to peer over the remnants of the table. Where the soldiers had been there were now just smoking bodies. Behind them, the rift crackled, still open. She was still alive. And, it seemed, so was he. Thom leveraged himself to his feet and shambled to the rift. He peered in, struggling to see past the green lightning.

Thom had watched and worried for Kaitala since the first day he'd met her; had followed her willingly into battles more and more deadly doing everything he could to support her without holding her back. Leaving her alone in the Fade to face the soul of a god was too much to ask of him now. He surged forward, throwing his exhausted body through the rift. He'd rather die trying to help her, than live knowing he'd let her fight alone.

 

* * *

 

Thom burst out of the rift.

Kaitala had watched the explosion and Thom's subsequent, stupid decision through Solas' vision. The Fade must have read her mind because it deposited Thom with a solid thud on the ground next to her.

Seeing him here, the Black City on the endless horizon behind him, his bloody face and clothes limned with the dank yellow-green light of the Fade, fear squeezed her heart hard. Kaitala grabbed his arm and yanked him up to look at him. He grimaced at the rough movement. Wounds oozed blood from what seemed every inch of him and his nose looked broken. “You were supposed to stay there! You were done! You're going to die here!”

“Then we'll die together.”

Her grip tightened on his arm, but his blue eyes were warm, and stubborn. She glanced back at Solas, who watched them with the same detached fascination Dagna gave to her most interesting artifacts. The Anchor felt like it was loosening, and the energy dug deeper into her arm like a circle of sharp knives. Kaitala muffled a cry.

“Why are you here?” Solas asked, staring at Thom.

“We're here to stop you.” Thom's voice was hoarse and haggard.

“Why are _you_ here? With her? Why didn't you stay?”

Thom gathered himself and stood, but when he wobbled he bent over, hands on his knees. “Helping her,” he said, breathing hard.

Solas raised a thin eyebrow. “How can you possibly help her like this?”

Thom glanced at her. “I couldn't let her die alone.”

“You think she will fail.”

That brought Thom up straight, his face flushing beneath the drying blood. “I think you're a vengeful god who doesn't give a shit about people he once called friends.”

“I saved her before.”

“So we could all die here? Big of you.”

Solas' muscles tightened and for the first time since she'd crested the hill, he stepped towards them to the edge of the ward he'd carved into the hillside. His toes were a hairsbreadth from the edge. _He can't leave it_ , she realized. As long as she stayed here and kept the Anchor connected, it was out of his reach. “Kaitala came to save everyone. You only came for yourself. Because you couldn't live with your own guilt.”

“Aye,” Thom said. “She's a better person than me, and a damn sight better than you. She always has been. It's why we followed her.” He faced Kaitala and pressed his palm to her cheek. It was hot and wet with blood. She covered his hand with her own. “It's why I love her. And she loves me, too, by some miracle.” He glanced at Solas. “She even cares about you.”

“I admit, Kaitala, that your belief in me makes me pause, even now.”

She shifted, taking a few steps towards Solas but still well out of his grasp. “Then stop this madness. The days of the old elves have passed. You miss your people, but there is so much good in this world. So much more you could do to help the elves as they are now. Help us nurture it.”

The Anchor surged and Kaitala cried out, overcome with the fire that burned a path from her hand through her whole body. The agony drove her to her knees. There was a pause as the Fade, the whole world, held its breath. The magic around Solas dimmed even further, and Kaitala grew brighter, hunched over on the ground, swathed in green light.

“Kaitala!” Thom dropped to his knees next to her.

She blinked away silent tears and ground her teeth against the pain. It was getting too hard to hold onto anything now. The magic, the Anchor, even consciousness seemed to be pulling away. She dragged her deadened hand to her chest, pressed the Anchor against it. The magic latched on like a hundred barbed hooks in her heart. As though she'd opened a vessel, the magic of the Fade that had been lurking, that Solas had been weaving and calling, poured into her entire body through the Anchor. She couldn't shut it off, couldn't hope to contain it. Yet still she feared it wouldn't be enough to destroy Solas.

Thom touched her then, pressed his strong hand against the Anchor gripping her chest, wove his fingers through hers, and the light roared and crackled over him as well. Kaitala gasped as the fullness and pain spread in a tidal wave through her and into Thom. He was acting as another container for the power, a place she could direct the magic to.

He met her gaze and she knew this would be enough. “Together. Always,” he said through the roaring in her soul, and it landed as a whisper in her heart. One heartbeat. Two. She closed her eyes.

 

* * *

 

Thom hadn't known what to expect when he'd touched the Anchor, had been acting on instinct and love. But he'd felt Kaitala flip his insides open and stuff him full of the bright, hot flare of magic and knew he couldn't pull away now if he wanted to. His skin felt pulled tight. He thought he might explode. He didn't know how she'd made it even a minute like this.

Suddenly the whirling chaos muted like a blanket thrown on a raging fire, muffling it but not putting it out. Kaitala had pushed herself up so she was only on one knee now, and her hands were thrust out in front of her, the magic blazing from her to Solas. The elf went rigid in its grasp. Kaitala screamed.

Thom, panicking, tried to help but all he could do was hold on to the magic, to her.

And then he heard her, ragged and pleading: “Let me go.”

His hand clenched Kaitala's more tightly, almost against his will. Then he remembered Leliana, back at the inn in Denerim. _There's only so far you can go._ They had to destroy Solas. _She_ had to destroy him.

Her lips shaped a single word: “Please.”

He had been responsible for too many deaths in his life, too many people that he let down by cowardice and fear. He was afraid to let go, to bear the weight if it was the wrong choice. But when he could not trust himself, he trusted her.

Thom released her hand.

The pain instantly disappeared and he fell back onto his ass like someone had shoved him over. Solas was hunched over in agony, the green light whirling around both he and Kaitala, the sound a roaring bonfire. Every part of Thom wanted to dash back in, shove Solas away and get Kaitala the hell away from here, but he waited, praying silently to Andraste and whatever gods would listen.

The roaring ceased and for a moment the quiet overwhelmed him. Thom squinted against the burning light. He could barely make the pair out now within it its quiet embrace.

Then the light itself seemed to scream, and so did Solas, and Thom couldn't tell whether the elf swallowed the light or it him, but the flash threw Thom onto his back and he blacked out.

When he woke he was on the floor of the Undercroft, dangerously wounded but alive. The rift was gone. And so was Kaitala.

 

* * *

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 5 “the path to a place of lost love”  
> 6 You are finished, little nothing  
> 7 I will kill you!  
> 8 You killed Fen'Harel!


	15. Chapter 15

Sera and Dagna found him as he crawled around the destroyed room looking for any clues to where Kaitala was.

“Oi!” Sera shouted, rushing to his side. “You look like shit.” Her bright eyes darted quickly around the room. “Is she...?”

Thom coughed and pressed his forehead to the cold stone. “I don't know.”

Dagna brought over a healing potion and Sera took over the search through the scorched rubble while Thom leaned back against a crumbling table and let the magic burn through him as it closed wounds and replaced lost blood. By the time Thom was certain he wouldn't die, she'd returned to his side, her face drawn. When Dagna looked expectantly at Sera, the elvish girl shook her head, no. Thom felt a sinkhole open inside him. He couldn't catch his breath.

“Thom.” Sera's voice was unusually gentle. He stared hard at his blood-covered hands. “Time to move, yeah? We left a lot of pissed off elves up there, and they're not gonna be any jollier when they see what you've done to balls-face here.” She kicked Solas' body for emphasis.

“If she comes back, and no one is here-”

“She won't come back.”

Thom and Sera both glared at Dagna, and the smaller woman's mouth dropped in horror. “No! I didn't mean- I didn't mean that! I meant there's no opening to the Fade here. She's more likely to come back at the Eluvian we left behind. We should go back there. If you can make it. I'm sure she'll be there.” She pressed her lips together, as though stemming a torrent of more words.

Sera leaned down and kissed Dagna's thin lips. “You're a smart one. It's chaos up there. We can use it to get back to the Eluvian.”

Thom wandered aimlessly around the Undercroft while Sera went to find them cloaks to hide themselves. Nothing. Not even a hint of where Kaitala could be. He held onto the hope she'd be waiting for them on the other side of the portal.

In the end they made it to the Eluvian, through the Crossroads, and back to the cave without being stopped. Sera had been right: it was complete chaos in Skyhold. The stables had been completely burned down and they were still fighting the fire that raged in the kitchens and what had been the training tower when the Inquisition had been here. The gardens were smoldering and blackened. Even the stones were injured. It seemed the Anchor's explosion had cracked Skyhold's foundation. By the time they reached the portal room, the elves had clearly found Solas' body, because a cry seemed to be building in the very walls of Skyhold.

The trio quickly hurried through the portal when Dagna activated it in perfect Elvish.

“Should we look here?” Sera asked when they were safely in the Crossroads, the Eluvian closed behind them.

“No, she wouldn't wait here. She's on the other side,” Thom said, certain of it. The potion had healed the worst of his wounds, but as much as his spirit wanted to rush for the Eluvian to the cave, the best he could do was a hurried shuffle. Sera came up under his arm and with her help they moved at a brisk walk. Dagna opened this Eluvian, too, and Thom took a deep breath before they stepped in.

Kaitala wasn't in the cave.

Instead, they found the bodies of Fenris and the Qunari, Divlan being tended to by a well-looking Cassandra, and the others all holding weapons at the ready as Thom and Sera emerged.

“Rainier!” Dorian said, rushing forward. “Good gods, man, did you _bathe_ in blood?” But the mage hugged Thom hard and took his weight from Sera. Varric, who was there to greet Dagna, peered into the Eluvian when no one else emerged.

“Where's Kaitala?”

The sinkhole opened wider and Thom teetered on the edge, despair gripping him.

“We don't know,” Dagna said. “I thought she'd be here.” She sounded like she was crying, but Thom couldn't bear to look at anything but the blurry ground. “I was sure she'd be here.”

Thom slipped from Dorian's grip and sank to the floor. The sinkhole swallowed him.

“We'll find her,” Dorian said from above him. “We'll find her.” His voice was distant and thick with despair. “We'll find her.”

 

* * *

 

The entire group searched Skyhold and the surrounding area for Kaitala every day for two weeks, Divlan included. He'd been saved thanks to Cassandra's insistence the group return to the cave when she finally awoke, and he said he owed them. He knew secret paths the rest of them did not and though he seemed lost and drifting, he reliably pointed out each hidden cave and overgrown path to check.

Though most of the elves quickly fled after Solas' death, the group occasionally had to deal with small bands who refused to surrender. Thom let Divlan and the others try to talk the elves down, but when it failed he threw himself into battle with savage relief.

After one week, the group welcomed to the now emptied Skyhold the arrival of fresh forces and supplies from the Chantry. Cole and Maryden arrived with them.

“I felt what happened,” he said in his soft voice.

“Do you know where she is?” Cullen asked, his tone urgent. But Cole only shook his head and peered at Thom from under the floppy brim of his hat. Thom looked away.

Cole was a man now, with a sun-warmed face and a firm, certain gait. It made Thom feel older than ever to see him. Cole joined them during their second week of searches and Thom found those were the only times he felt quiet inside.

The third week, after a fierce discussion in the war room, Thom continued the search with just Sera and Cole, and then relentlessly alone the week after. At the end of that week, Thom watched from the balcony of the room that had been Kaitala's as her parents arrived at Skyhold. He wondered if it was Dorian or Cassandra who had told them their daughter was gone. Kaitala's mother, Asaaranda, walked with straight back and clear eyes, but her father, Talan, moved with trembling effort. Asaaranda supported him, watching him constantly with a dark and serious gaze. Dorian and Iron Bull welcomed them to Skyhold, Bull especially fascinated by the Tal-Vashoth pair. Talan was eager to take Bull in and talk to him about being Tal-Vashoth, and they spent hours walking slowly around Skyhold together with Asaaranda lingering close behind. Though Kaitala looked more like her mother, it hurt the most when Thom saw her spirit in her father's eyes, heard it in his gentle laugh. Thom avoided them at all costs, hiding up in Kaitala's room, having food he barely touched brought in for every meal. It took Thom another week before he agreed to a ceremony in Kaitala's honor.

There were two ceremonies ultimately: one in the packed Skyhold Chantry, and another at Haven's. Though it had been half a decade since Corypheus had been defeated, the people of Haven and the Hinterlands remembered the Inquisitor with love and admiration and the turnout there was huge.

Vivienne – _Divine Victoria_ , Thom reminded himself – had even made the trip, and oversaw the funeral rites. With no body, some of the usual chants had to be skipped but Vivienne was as composed and eloquent as ever. Thom attended Skyhold's ceremony from the shadowed doorway in the back, and left before the final prayer had been spoken.

That night, there was a knock on Kaitala's door in Skyhold. He hadn't ordered food – hadn't eaten all day – so he ignored it.

“I know you're in there.” Dorian. Thom heard the door open, heard footfalls and the sound of a platter being set down. The warm smell of bread and stew drifted to Thom, and his stomach turned over in disgust. He waited for Dorian to leave, but there were only the sounds of the mage drifting about behind his back, making small, thoughtful noises as he moved around the room.

“Thanks for the food,” Thom ground out.

“Starvation is a horrible way to die,” Dorian said. “You get gaunt, your body starts to eat itself, teeth fall out from malnutrition. Horrible.” Thom could see Cassandra and Varric walking in the torch-lit courtyard below. They were talking quietly, the sound but not the content drifting on the wind. They held hands. Thom's ached and curled on themselves.

Dorian arrived at Thom's side, staring at the strolling couple. “Leliana's body is in Orlais. Cassandra asked them to wait until she could be there. She's thinking of leaving in a day or two. Varric will go with her, of course, and Cullen, too.”

“They're welcome to go.” _There's nothing here._

“Bull and I will escort Asaaranda and Talan back to their home, and then I need to return to Tevinter, make sure things haven't spiraled out of control while I've been away. Maevaris is competent, but she's not me. Bull wants to get back to the Chargers and make sure they haven't had too much fun without him. I'm not sure where Cole is headed, but he has been tagging along behind Vivienne, of all people, consumed with trying to help her “help the people,” as he calls it. I suspect that will continue until she gives in and accepts the lad or she bites his head off.”

“What of Sera?” Thom asked, his voice catching on her name.

“She informed me before I came here that you can't make her leave, so – and I quote – 'suck it.'” Thom's heart cracked, a ray of sunlight seeping in through the dark wall. “More to the point,” Dorian said, “is that all of us will stay here as long as you need us, and will be there whenever you need us in the future. You're not alone, Rainier, much as you might think you are. Or want to be.”

“I was alone for years before.”

“Yes, and how did that work out for you?” Dorian's tone was gentle around the harsh words. “You should go back to the farm,” he said softly. “Take Sera and Dagna with you if you want, though you may not have a choice in the matter. Take time. There is enough of it, and grief is hard.”

Thom did finally look at the other man. His friend. After what Thom had done in that forest in Orlais he'd never thought to have true friends again. They were Kaitala's friends, too, and he could see they felt her absence, if not as keenly. The ache of missing Kaitala was a hard ball filling up Thom's stomach so he couldn't eat, his throat so he couldn't speak, his heart so every beat hurt. But there were his friends, pushing back, pressing against the anguish and giving him just enough room to breathe. Perhaps he could ease theirs in return. “I had thought to go to the Wardens,” he said.

Dorian nodded, looking relieved. “They would be lucky to have you. But go to the farm first. Grieve some, before you try to shove it away. Feelings don't just disappear, I'm afraid. They'll follow you like a lost stray until you take them in.”

“You're unusually wise for a smartass, rich mage.”

“You're unusually thoughtful for a dirty, unkempt fighter.”

Thom smiled, the slightest turn of his lips, but he felt the crack in the dark center of his heart widen, and more light shone in. “Tell Asaaranda and Talan I'll stop by their home before winter. Bring by some of,” he swallowed Kaitala's name, having avoided saying it as much as he could,” her things. But I can't see them now. Not yet.”

“I will. And don't worry about them. I think Bull is hoping they'll adopt him and the Chargers.”

“Knowing Talan, they might.”

He and Dorian shared a knowing look, a warm hug, and then Dorian smoothed down his mustache and patted Thom on the back. “Enough feelings for tonight, hm? I brought plenty of alcohol to get both of us thoroughly drunk.”

“I brought some, too!” That was Sera, who had apparently sneaked into the room with a half cask while they'd been talking. “No getting pissed without me. Also I invited the others.” She whistled, a sharp trill that made Thom wince. Through the door came Dagna, Varric, Bull, Cassandra, Cullen, Cole, and Vivienne all carrying their own drinking containers. Even Calenhad loped into the room, and sat down in front of the cold fireplace expectantly.

Dorian frowned, but Sera waved him off. “Shut it. We'll leave in a heartbeat, Beardy, if you want us to. No hurt feelings. But if you don't, we can have a hell of a toast. Even Vivienne's partaking tonight.”

“I wouldn't miss it, my dear.”

He thought of nights around the fire with them, with Kaitala. How she'd laughed at Sera's jokes, Varric's stories. The way she'd spar with Cassandra and Bull, the firelight glinting off of their blades. Her long talks with Dorian, the shy fascination she had for Cullen that had grown into a warm friendship. Cole's odd and touching murmurs and Vivienne's sly advice. He yearned to have Kaitala here with the whole of his body, thought his insides might wrap in on themselves with the wanting, but a toast tonight, with their friends, would have to do. And perhaps, in the Fade or wherever she was, she'd feel it and smile.

 

* * *

 

Kaitala fell into time itself, found herself floating in a pool of light that had no end and no beginning.

“Where am I?” she said, or thought she did, but she didn't hear her voice so much as feel it.

“It doesn't matter,” Solas said, and she felt his voice in her head directly. She thought she moved her hand to reflexively protect herself, but even her body felt unreal. She could barely make out his form an unknown distance away.

“What happened?”

“You won.” Solas' form wavered and then coalesced.

“Are we dead?”

“Gods cannot die.”

“I'm no god.”

“Surely when you destroy a god you become a god.” The noise Solas made was a laugh, but Kaitala felt it like a cry. “The Anchor destroyed me, and saved you.”

Her frustration rolled through the energy around them. “What does that mean?”

“Gods cannot die,” Solas repeated softly. Sadness poured from him and through her, and she tried to bring her hands up to her head to block out all the feelings that weren't her own, but she felt trapped in her own body. She realized her left hand was gone again. Relief rushed through her, and then terror. The energy darkened.

“Where's Thom?”

“He is safe.” The energy glowed brightly with her gratefulness.

“If I'm not dead, then surely I can get back,” she said, her desperation swirling the light between them.

“There is no need, Thedas is safe.”

“There must be a way.” She tried to turn. All around was the bright light and the quiet pulse of Solas. Even now the light bent towards him. “You know how.”

“Are you not tired? Have you not earned your peace?”

“Solas-”

“I can send you back,” he said, and loneliness buffeted her, like facing eyes open into a windstorm. Kaitala tried to turn away from it, but everywhere was the light, the loneliness, Solas.

“Please,” she tried again. His form shifted a little, and the loneliness retreated, like it had been pulled back into his body. “I need to get back.”

“Need,” he scoffed. “You are as bad as Rainier. Your work is done, you should rest now.” Sorrow. Slight amusement. And still the piercing loneliness lurking underneath it all.

Kaitala thought of Thom, and then she saw him, not with her eyes – which were filled with light and Solas' vague form – but the image of him was in her mind. Thom on his knees in the cave, his forehead and palms pressed to the floor. His mouth moved and she couldn't hear his voice but she felt every word in her heart. He said her name, over and over, and _I'm sorry, I'm so sorry_. The grief and regret poured from him like waves crashing in an ocean storm. She tried to push through, to force her way back to Skyhold, to Thom, to reach out and touch him, but she drowned in it before Solas seemed to pull her back enough to breathe.

“ _Please_ ,” she begged. “I want to go back.”

“He has the others,” Solas said, and she saw them now, too, hovering around: Sera crouched down next to Thom but not touching him; Dagna behind her, one small hand on Sera's shoulder; Dorian with tears on his face on the other side and Bull holding him tightly against his big body. Cassandra was a distance away and bandaged, her eyes dry as she stood over a quiet Divlan, but her grief ripped through Kaitala. Cullen was slumped next to Calenhad, quiet and crying; and Varric paced, wiping his eyes, muttering curses to the gods.

Desolation wrapped around it all, and Kaitala could no longer tell where it came from, if it were hers, or Thom's, or her friends', or Solas'. She would have cried if her body was hers to command. She wanted nothing more than to feel Thom's arms around her, to hear his deep laugh, to see her friends' smiles.

“Please,” she whispered this time.

Anger, now, and the light blazed with it. “You want to go back for them? Their grief is mortal, it is finite, they will forget it in the span of a breath you take here.”

He showed her another scene: her friends and Thom in her old room in Skyhold. A fire crackled merrily while they lifted their mugs and wine bottles in a toast to each other. She saw Cole and Vivienne had joined them. Again she couldn't hear so much as feel their words, knew the toast was to her. She was heartened to see them smiling even as sadness hovered darkly over them all. There was a black hole at Thom's back, but he smiled, too.

She knew Thom too well to believe he would ever forget her. Even so: “It doesn't matter. They're my friends. The man I love. _I_ miss _them_.” She knew she tread on thin ice here. “You've known love, friendship. Yearned to have those ties back.”

“Why should you have what I cannot?” Jealousy, like acid across her skin.

“I shouldn't,” she said. “There's no good reason for you to send me back. Some would think you a fool for doing so.” Her calm certainty soothed the burn in herself, at least. “But I'm asking you anyway, even though I know what it will cost you to do so, what it might cost me to keep asking. And you would do the same.”

Rage flared at that, hot enough she was grateful she didn't need to breathe. Then a gentle breeze of ruefulness, and the pure, cool touch of care.

“And you would send me back,” he said. Pride, then, for her. “You would have sent me back the first time I asked.”

“I hope I would, but I don't know for sure,” she admitted.

Gentle, loving amusement. Then the scene on Thedas that had continued to play in her mind disappeared, and all the feelings that weren't hers were gone and she felt a vast, yawning void inside her. She understood for a terrifying, heartbreaking moment what Solas carried with him.

“I worry for my people,” he said. She felt it lap at her feet like the small waves that hid the vast and endless ocean. “I wanted to save them.”

“I'm sorry.”

“'Sorry.' Rainier said the same thing before he killed me.” The bite of anger was soothed with resignation. “The Veil destroyed my people. I thought I could fix my mistake, fix them.”

“It wouldn't have. Not really.”

“I believe I always knew that, I just did not wish to hear. I had waited so long.” He sighed and the energy around them stirred. “So very long.”

For an amount of time that could have been a second or a year, Kaitala waited. Though she no longer felt his emotions directly, the energy seemed to conduct them anyway, and it surged and retreated as he wrestled with himself.

“Will you help them, Kaitala Adaar? Your world is more dangerous than ever to those that joined me. They will need a champion.”

“I will do my best. I promise I will.” The energy flared bright and hot as though she were standing in a lightning bolt.

“Then go back,” Solas said, his voice seeming to come from everywhere at once, running through her. “Go back to your world and tell them Fen'Harel has decided to let you live. Tell them,” he made a pained noise deep in his throat, and his voice became his voice again, and not the booming thunder of the world. “Tell children the story of my people. The tales of Fen'Harel, who will be ever watchful. You have promised that you will protect the elves and thus I place my mark on you that they might know you speak for me.” She felt something burn sharp and quick into her left shoulder. “And if the good and the love you represent disappear from the world, if my people need me,” he cried out, hunching over as the energy began to consume him once more. “I will be back.”

“Solas-” Kaitala called out.

“Goodbye, my friend.”

Kaitala felt the world split apart. She took a breath.

 

* * *

 

They left as Dorian had said in the following days, and after everyone else had cleared out leaving only the Chantry soldiers and their supporters at Skyhold, Thom left, too. Sera and Dagna traveled with him, and the trio retraced the steps they'd taken to get here: back to Jader, to speak with Mother Giselle, then across the sea to Kirkland. Thom left a note for Varric to give the house to Malachi's family, or sell it and give them the coin it brought if they didn't want it. Thom even headed for Denerim, made contact with Leliana's people there, who reported that Harding was temporarily in charge and wanted very much to speak to Sera. It seemed Leliana had had leadership in mind for the elven girl. Thom left her and Dagna there to wait for the Nightingale's birds, knowing he'd never forget the utter shock on her face when she'd heard the news.

“You sure you'll be okay?” she'd asked after she'd hugged him for the tenth, or maybe eleventh, time at Denerim's gates.

“I am an adult.”

“A super old one.”

He glared. “I'm in the prime of my life.”

“Are you now? Didn't you groan terribly getting up from the breakfast table this morning?”

“I just ate too much is all,” he huffed. “Standing here talking to you isn't making me any younger. I need to get back before fall hits full.” The air was already cooler, and the wind had started to bite. “I need to make sure the harvesting is done, the land is prepared for winter. And that the Cornwalls got our raven and didn't sell the farm.”

She hugged him, hard, one last time. “I'll miss you,” she whispered.

“I'll miss you, too. Visit whenever you like, both of you,” he said, squeezing Dagna's shoulder. The dwarf smiled at him. “Take care of each other,” he added. He could feel the weight of the words in his own voice, saw the serious way they took it on. He gave them each a kiss and then mounted Oatsy. Anaan, whom he couldn't bring himself to sell, was tied behind. He turned back to wave four times down the road from Denerim, and they were still there every time.

 

* * *

 

The trip from Denerim to the farmhouse took the same number of days it had taken the first time, but the journey was worse, even without the tension of Kaitala's magic hand. The closer he got to their home, the more keenly he felt her distance. _I should've brought Sera,_ he thought as he came upon the edge of the trees at their farmland. He paused, felt Anaan shift anxiously next to him, eager to make for the familiar stables after so long away. Thom had to force himself to move forward instead of running fast and never coming back. But Kaitala had given him the strength to stop running, and he wouldn't betray that now.

The house was dark, lonely, as Oatsy plodded towards it. He heard a goat bleat. The fields had been fully harvested and lay covered in straw, waiting to get through the winter. Thom hadn't stopped at the Cornwall's farm on his way back. Tomorrow, he promised himself. Tomorrow he could do it. It was too much to ask of today.

He stabled and tended the horses, checked on the goats and chickens and saw they were well. A fire gave the house light and heat but couldn't hide the emptiness. Thom wandered the room, fingers brushing the bureau, the blanket, their bed. He replaced the Inquisitor's sword back above the door where it had been before and curled on their bed and fell asleep with tears sliding down his cheeks.

The next morning, Thom woke as he had for the past two months: alone. He lay in bed for a long minute, almost forgetting why Kaitala wasn't here. When it hit him, he struggled to breathe, to bite down the long, lonesome wail that threatened at his throat. Thom rolled out of bed, feet hitting the floor. He shivered in the cold. Thom moved quickly to relight the dead fire and wrapped himself in their thick marriage blanket while the house heated. He glanced out the window, saw the day was dawning bright and sunny and clear, beckoning him to get outside and do what needed to be done.

After relieving himself and forcing down the last thick hunk of cheese he had with him, he pulled on fresh clothes and considered the day. There was much to do: feed the animals, check and tend the land, chop more wood for winter, get down to the market to restock supplies, and at some point visit their neighbors. Much to do, and only his two hands to do it with.

Outside, there was a long, low rumble of thunder. Thom frowned and looked out the window, but the skies were still clear. He tugged on his boots and went outside to start his work, looked in a complete circle at the sky and saw no clouds. Thunder rumbled again, closer this time, louder. He felt the sound of it run through him and down his boots. If there was lightning, he should move inside, but the sky was blue, serene. In the stables, the horses whickered nervously. Thunder boomed like an explosion over the house, and Thom ducked but no lightning followed. Anaan let out a piercing shriek, sounding more excited than scared.

The sky split open.

Thom fell to the ground, pushed down by the force of it, and tried to breathe and see. It felt like all the air in the world had been sucked away and replaced with a blinding light that offered no sustenance and burned his eyes, his skin. He tried to cry out, remember where and who he was, and then it disappeared in a flash, and his lungs gratefully gulped air. He squeezed his eyes shut as tears ran down his cheeks, his eyes and chest both aching. He heard the horses, the chickens, the goats all chattering. He blinked away the tears, the afterglow of whatever that had been, and saw a shape ten feet away, curled on the ground.

Thom didn't have his sword on him, but the shape didn't move and he wasn't sure he could see well enough to fight anything anyway. He gathered himself to a crouch, rubbed at his face as his eyesight returned, and when he saw what the shape was, rubbed again. And again.

It was Kaitala.

He crawled to her on his aching knees, faster than he'd moved even as a young man. She was unharmed, one-handed, and very still. He scooped her up in his arms and his vision went blurry again.

“Kaitala,” he said, and his voice was despair and hope.

Kaitala's eyes flew open, darted around frantically before focusing on Thom. “I'm here,” she said, her body heaving deep breaths against his. She was warm, and alive.

“You are,” he managed. His face was hot with tears. His body was rigid, frozen, except for his hands that kept opening and closing around her body. “How?”

“Solas,” she said. Her hand came up, rubbed the wetness from his cheeks. “No more tears, my love.”

“Fuck that,” Thom choked out, burying his face in her neck with a hitched sob.

 

* * *

 

They clung to each other there on the ground of their farm until both stopped crying. Kaitala felt awkward in her body, as though she were wearing a heavy new suit of armor. She realized she was naked and shivered when the cool wind caressed her.

“We should get inside,” Thom said. “Are you hurt?”

“I don't think so.” She got to her knees with Thom's help and then had to rest. How had she lived all her life in this body with its thick, ungainly movements? She flexed the fingers of her right hand, looked at the skin of her legs. Her scars were still there, and she felt a wash of relief. She was still herself. The alien feel of her own body was just from her time in the beyond.

“What's this, then?” Thom pressed gentle fingers to her shoulder.

Kaitala looked down and saw the same mark of Fen'Harel that the elves had had. “A promise,” she said.

He pursed his lips. “We have much to catch up on, but that can wait.” He stood and lifted her in his arms.

“I can walk.”

“I prefer this,” he said, carrying her into their home and laying her on the bed. He laid the blanket over her. It was warm and smelled of him. “Here,” he said, bringing her water. It tasted like cold sunlight on her tongue, bursting with life. She gasped. “Is it okay?” he asked.

“It's the best water I've ever had.”

Thom smiled, rubbed his thumb along her cheek. “Are you hungry?”

“Just for you.” She grabbed his hand and tugged him down next to her on the bed. Her body was bursting with the desire to feel his rough hands all over. He came down on one knee, hesitant. “Please, Thom.” She lifted up enough to press a kiss on his warm throat, up to his ear. “All I want right now is you.”

He shuddered and stripped off his clothes quickly. She watched him, taking in the sight of the new scars, the familiar curves and lines of his body. His hair and beard were long again.

“If you need to stop at any time, just say the word,” he said, crawling under the blanket next to her. His hand hovered over her body.

“I'm still me,” she said, pressing his hand to her belly, moving it up to her breast. “Touch me. I need you to.”

He massaged her breast, dragged his fingers across her nipple and down her side to her hip. Her body sparked where he touched her, bringing her back to life as much as Solas had. His blue eyes watched her intently, and he shifted their bodies so she was on her back and he above her. His hands traveled over every inch of her, tracing old scars and the new mark, rubbing his thick fingers into her muscles. Her body grew more pliant, more familiar with each caress of his calloused hands. They traced the base of her horns and back around her hair to her neck where he rested his fingers against the pulse at her throat on her either side. She saw him blink quickly, holding back tears.

“You were gone,” he said, swallowing hard. She pressed her fingers to his throat and felt his rapidly beating heart. “It's a bloody miracle.”

“Then we won't waste it.”

Thom bent and kissed her slow and deep, and his cock pressed hard against her. Kaitala moaned low. The feel of him opened the last lock and her body trembled, suddenly on fire. When he started to rise, she wrapped her arms around him and held tight. He seemed to understand her need, because he shifted and his cock slid smoothly into her. Their pleasure mingled into a single harmonious moan. She felt bright, and full, and _alive_.

He pressed his forehead into her shoulder and his breath blew hot on her skin. When he pulled out and thrust back into her, they both groaned and trembled. Kaitala could hardly move beneath him, nearly paralyzed with the sensation of feeling all the nerves in her body at once. Every point they touched, the afterglow of everywhere his hands had been, the building heat at her core that threatened to burn her through with every long, slow thrust, they overwhelmed her. Her hand pressed and curled against his back and she kissed his hair, the side of his beloved face. She wanted to look at him and to close her eyes and just feel him. She wanted him to continue his measured, torturous motions and to pound furious and fast. She wanted to kiss every part of his body and to be kissed in return.

There would be time for all of it.

Thom's moans turned rugged, his breaths coming in harsh puffs against her as he kept his slow and steady pace. She could feel his control unraveling even as he fought to hold on. Her hand shifted down to squeeze his ass and she found control enough of her own body to writhe against him, urging him faster and harder.

Released, Thom put his hands on either side of her body and lifted his chest up. She opened her legs wider, and he sank deeply into her, his length hot and rigid. Kaitala cried out, her body clenching around him as he pulled nearly all the way out and then thrust deep again, and again, and again.

The sun itself rose inside of her. Kaitala pressed her arms flat against the bed as her body burned, Thom's wild thrusts fanning the flames higher. The conflagration swallowed them both.

After the fire had died down, they curled into each other on the bed, their foreheads pressed together, breathing each others’ air. Kaitala traced her finger over the curve of Thom's ear, the broad span of his shoulder. He watched her intently, worry clear in his eyes.

Finally he said: “I just want to lie here with you. This is all I've wanted since...since Skyhold.”

“But?”

“Is there a limit on all this? Will you be here an hour? A day?”

“A lifetime,” she said. “However long that is.”

Thom closed his eyes and rubbed his hand down his face. “A miracle,” he whispered. He opened his eyes. “What happened?”

“The Anchor took us both. Not to the Fade. I don't know where, or if where is even the right word.” The memory of it was like looking at an old, faded painting. She could see the intention, but the beauty and immediacy were long gone. “I made Solas a promise to help the elves and he sent me back here.” She rolled onto her back and twisted her arm to see the mark. “He said this would help me.”

Thom kissed the mark, and then kissed her. “So it's to the elves we go next. Sera will love that.”

She laughed and bit back tears at the same time. “Always so quick to join in. But don't forget the Qunari, the Venatori, bears-”

Thom's responding laugh pealed across the room. “You're a right ray of sunshine. But I'll be with you at every step. Too late to get rid of me now.”

“I will take this, take you, as long as we can get.” Kaitala turned back on her side to face him, serious. “Together.”

“Always,” he said, as simple as breathing. He kissed her hand.

 

 

**THE END**


	16. Epilogue: Playlist

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A playlist for the fic!

[There Will Come A Time mix](http://8tracks.com/anon-877567045/there-will-come-a-time-mix?utm_medium=referral&utm_content=mix-page&utm_campaign=embed_button) from [sdwolfpup](http://8tracks.com/anon-877567045?utm_medium=referral&utm_content=mix-page&utm_campaign=embed_button) on [8tracks Radio](http://8tracks.com?utm_medium=referral&utm_content=mix-page&utm_campaign=embed_button).


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